Rumplestilskin
by Sylphien
Summary: Sarah Williams may not have magic powers but since her return from the Labyrinth she's always been innately lucky. Unfortunately her good luck may just be the undoing of her family. What will happen when she suddenly needs all the luck she has to save her family and it finally runs out; will she call on an old enemy?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer**: I do not own the Labyrinth or it's inhabitants and if I did I probably wouldn't share...

First fanfiction - please enjoy

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The thing about winning, thought Sarah Williams, was that once you started it was surprisingly hard to stop.

After beating the Goblin King, Sarah had found that most things in life tended to go her way.

At 15 she had won a short story competition.

At 16 she had won a scholarship.

At 17 she had won a young writers award.

At 18 she had won a car.

At 19 she had won a luxury cruise.

At 20 she had won a small fortune in the sweep stakes.

Now on her 21st birthday she pulled into the driveway of her family home and was afraid to leave her car.

Irene had invited her for a special birthday dinner but she knew what awaited her inside.

Competitions, scratchies, lottery tickets, her father would have stock piled them by now, he called her his 'lucky child' and enjoyed testing her ability as often as possible.

She ran her hands over her car steering wheel cover and sighed. Luck wasn't infinite, that was something she was sure of, and sooner or later her luck was going to run out.

It didn't really matter to her, winning wasn't everything.

Her first big win had ended in the return of her baby brother, something she had definitely wanted, but since saying farewell to the Labyrinth her life had been without magic.

It had been completely normal in every way, average, mundane, boring.

She knew the winning wasn't exactly 'normal,' but she would have given it up in an instant to see Hoggle appear in her mirror when she called for him.

Magic had completely left Sarah Williams life and been replaced by an unrepentant lucky streak.

She hadn't wanted luck; she hadn't wished for it, she was very careful to never EVER wish for anything.

She was sure that when the luck finally died out her father would be crushed. He had come to rely on her luck over the past few years and constantly bragged about Sarah's special 'talent'.

She feared the day she would disappoint her father; her luck had become a burden.

Biting her lip and taking a deep breath Sarah reached for the car door and was surprised when a dark blue Mercedes pulled up the drive and parked in the space next to her.

Her heart sank.

_Please tell me he hasn't, please tell me this isn't what I think it is._

To her relief a middle aged man in a well cut suit exited the driver's side of the car, a stranger.

It wasn't her father's car, he hadn't bought anything new.

Everything was going to be okay, it was her birthday wasn't it, what had she been expecting?

Chuckling to herself she slipped from her car which now appeared shrunken and lacklustre compared to the beautiful machine beside it.

The man in the suit glanced up at her for a moment and then opened the rear door of the car and stepped back. An overweight man in a black suit pulled himself out of the car and glanced up at Sarah's childhood home.

She paused and glanced at the two men from under her lashes as she slowly slipped her keys into her bag.

The driver was lean and sinewy with a bad fake tan and a slowly receding hairline. His suit was neat and tidy, but crinkled at the back as if he has been sitting in the car seat for a long period of time. His face was completely forgettable, and Sarah was sure that had she had met him yesterday she would have forgotten him already.

The second man was overweight but not to the point of being obese. He had a shock of black hair gelled and brushed back in a business-like manner and a wide smile plastered across his face. Like his suit the smile was tight, as if fixed in place forcibly against his will.

In his stumpy little hands he held a well-worn note pad and Sarah wondered if he was a colleague of her fathers.

Despite her attempt at subtlety Sarah realised she was now openly staring at the two men and looked away feeling embarrassed as she settled her bag over her shoulder.

One of the two men cleared his throat and instinctively her eyes met his. The squat overweight man with the fake smile pushed it even further as he assessed her.

"Sarah Williams," He said, it was not a question.

She was quite sure she had never met him before.

"Yes," she supplied awkwardly. "Who are you, colleagues of my father?"

"You have his look about you, I recognised you straight away," grinned the fat man.

She did not miss that he had evaded her question.

"He talks about you a lot you know, 'Lucky Sarah' he calls you."

Sarah shrugged noncommittally with an equally fake smile slipping into place.

"Were you going to meet with my father?" She asked.

The fat man's little fingers stroked the note book in his hands possessively.

"Yes, on a matter of business," he agreed.

"I'll take you up to the house then," offered Sarah.

She often wondered if that was the difference between being a child and being an adult, having to be polite to people even when you didn't like them. She didn't like this man much.

She regretted no getting out of the car immediately to enter the house; she could have avoided this awkward false courtesy.

The fat man's piggy little eyes observed her but he gave no reply, his attention wandered down the driveway to the roadside. Eventually Sarah simply started towards the house and assumed they would follow her if that was their intention.

It was the best sort of day by Sarah's standards, sunny but not to the point of being hot and with a refreshing, gentle breeze to ruffle her knee length sundress.

She brushed her long dark tresses back over her shoulders as she stared up at her childhood home.

The late Victorian house had always struck her as something out of a novel, it's whitewashed walls and large windows were welcoming and homely and a wave of nostalgia washed over her for days long past. She had moved out of home and into a college dorm to keep her from having to commute each day, but she missed the familiarity of her first home and the sprawling park where she had played as a child, the memories were so dear to her she often wondered if that time would ever fade from her mind.

As she moved up the rock-strewn pathway towards the inviting front door she could hear the crunch of gravel behind her indicating she was indeed being followed, _pity really, _she thought. She did her best to ignore the men and resisted the urge to glance back over her shoulder and she punched the doorbell with more finger power than was really required.

Irene Williams opened the door and beamed down at Sarah.

"Oh honey I've really cooked up a storm for you today," she smiled.

Sarah felt relief wash over her. She and Irene had found common ground long ago and become good friends. Perhaps it would always be hard for Sarah to think of her as a mother since she already had one, but she loved her and she was family.

Right now she was a very welcome sight.

Sarah saw Irene's smile slip slightly as she caught sight of the two men behind her.

"Who..?" She asked.

"I'm a… business partner of your husbands," the fat man interrupted before Irene could finish, pulling up closely behind Sarah. "I'm here on urgent business."

Sarah had the impression he said the word 'business' in a very ironic fashion.

Irene's smile did not return.

"Robert!" She yelled over her shoulder. It seemed she was using her body to block the doorway and Sarah longed to be on the other side of the barrier.

"Sarah!" Gasped a voice behind her.

Spinning Sarah was almost knocked off her feet as her younger brother collided with her at full speed, his backpack slipping from his shoulders in his enthusiasm.

For a moment Sarah thought she saw an odd look flicker in the eyes of the fat man over her brother's shoulder.

"Careful Toby you're getting big now, you'll knock me over one of these days!" She grinned at him, tussling his hair.

Toby's face shone as he looked up towards his big sister, he gave her a gap toothed smile.

"Look I lost another one!" He cried excitedly, pulling Sarah's hand.

He poked his tongue into the hole between two of his teeth experimentally, showing off the loss of another baby tooth.

"Did you put it under your pillow for the tooth fairy?" She asked, admiring his latest loss.

Pouting Toby stopped pulling her hand and kicked his foot sulkily.

"No way, I'm not gonna get bit by some fairy," he complained and Sarah laughed as she leaned down to give him a hug.

"Toby Williams," called the fat man behind Toby, breaking their sibling bubble.

Toby turned to look at the two men he hadn't noticed up until that point.

"Who are you mister?" He asked.

"I thought you might be getting home from school around this time."

Toby cocked his head as he regarded the man.

"Hey look at this!" He crowed suddenly, throwing a huge grin in their direction. "See I loss free of 'em now," he tried to say without opening his teeth to remove the display.

"Very impressive," agreed the man.

There was an odd look on his face that Sarah didn't like, she was about to pull her brother back towards her when she heard a commotion by the door.

Robert Williams stood in the entry way looking nervous.

"Come inside Toby," he called from beyond the fly screen. Sarah felt an odd shiver run up her spine.

"No I don't think that will be necessary," Smiled the fat man.

Sarah watched as the hand of the driver latched onto Toby and half dragged him over to the far side of the porch. Toby's look of delight became curiosity as he regarded to new man uneasily but without fear.

_He's so innocent._

"What are you doing?" Growled Sarah; she stepped towards the man who was holding her brother with a scowl darkening her brow.

It was wrong, he was wrong. She didn't like these men and she especially didn't like them touching her brother, she didn't care if they were colleagues of her fathers or Goblin Kings or the Pope himself. The porch suddenly seemed too long, like a league stood between her and the steel faced man holding her brother.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you miss," hissed the driver as he flicked out a switchblade and held it up to Toby's cheek.

Sarah froze.

A voice was screaming in her head to get her brother away from these men but her eyes wouldn't leave the blade in his hands, what the hell was going on here.

"It doesn't need to come down to this!" yelled Robert from the doorway. "I can get you your money."

Sarah's eyes snapped up to her father, she suddenly had the distinct feeing he was using the flyscreen door as a shield between himself and these men.

"What have you done?" She whispered.

Sarah could hear Irene's confused voice from behind her father.

"What's going on Robert?" She asked. Reaching out towards the door handle for the flimsy screen her eyes caught sight of the blade held against her sons face and she paled.

"What are you doing?" She asked in a shaky voice. "Don't hurt him, he's just a little boy, please let him go."

Her father pushed her back roughly away from the door and she struggled against him trying to reach for the handle.

"Toby come here!" She screamed hysterically trying to push an arm out past Robert as if reaching for Toby.

Her father planted his hands on either side of Irene's shoulders as he pushed her back away from the door.

"Don't worry they won't hurt him, everything is fine now. Sarah is here, she can get the money and everything will be fine."

"Mum?" Called Toby, not understanding what was going on.

"It's alright baby, just stay still!" yelled Irene as she wrestled against Robert's hands.

Her sobs continued to rise in volume as she fought to no avail.

Sarah watched the scene dumbstruck.

She felt as if she had been slapped in the face. She took a deep breath and let it go as she stared uncomprehendingly at her father's face.

"What have you done?" She croaked again and watched a guilty shadow slide across his features.

"Your father owes me a lot of money," the fat man explained lazily. "He lost a lot of money that he borrowed from me and now I want it back."

He flapped the book in his hand as if it contained all the answers, maybe it did.

"Sarah honey everything is going to be okay, you're my lucky child and we can win it all back in no time at all. We just need to use that luck of yours," her father mumbled his eyes darting from his son to the fat man with the book. "I know we can do it, you're like my good luck charm. I need you to help me out okay?"

There was a rising sense of horror in the back of Sarah's mind. Her father had once been a good man, a sensible man, had her luck corrupted him somehow. Had she brought all of this about? Was she somehow to blame for all of this, for spoiling him with all the winning, for having him rely on her ability for too long, like a gambling addiction?

The fat man snorted behind her.

"You'll excuse me if I don't place as much faith in your daughter's magic powers as you do Robert." He sniffed.

_It's not magic powers…_

"You see I'm happy to wait a little longer for the money," The man looked down his nose at Sarah, "However you plan to get it, but I'll be taking something as collateral."

With a flourish the fat man flipped his wrist in Toby's direction.

Irene who had sunk to the floor sobbing now let out a scream and she threw herself at her husband. "Don't let him take my son, don't let him take Toby, Robert." She clawed at him desperately shrieking and gnashing her teeth like a wild woman.

"Don't touch him; you can't have him, give him back, GIVE HIM BACK!"

Sarah felt numb, Irene's screams sank into her skull as she watched her father battle with her in the doorway. At one point the screen door swung out in a wide arc and was wrenched closed again as her father grabbed at it and slammed it on her step mothers outflung arm.

How could this be happening, wasn't this supposed to be a birthday dinner? Maybe she would have to scratch a few silly scratchies for the meal, but that wasn't a big deal, not really.

This couldn't really be happening.

"No Carl, don't take my son," Robert yelled as he grabbed his wife around the waist and wrestled her to the ground. Irene whimpered hysterically as she held her bleeding arm

"Take something else…" He begged.

"You don't have anything else I want Robert," he interrupted coldly.

On the ground Irene pulled at her husband's leg.

"Don't let them take him," she rasped. "Take the car, take the house."

Carl's crocodile smile stretched a mile.

Through her fog Sarah saw it clearly, the Carl's hungry look as his eyes flickered to Toby. He knew what he wanted and he would take it. This wasn't like being wished away to a goblin kingdom, this was real life and it was infinitely more terrifying than anything Sarah had faced in the Labyrinth.

"The car and the house already belong to me Ms Williams," Carl told her. "The only thing of value you have to offer is this pretty little boy, and I can get a very nice price for him."

Sarah looked at each of them.

Her brother struggled against the driver's solid hands with a confused frown on his face, his eyes on his mother.

Irene shook hysterically, clutching at her husband's trouser cuff as blood ran freely down her arm.

Her father breathed deeply, his skin grey as he muttered about winning it all back, his eyes darting between Sarah and Carl.

Carl just stood there with his fingers laced over the note book in his hands, his smile wider than his face.

"Stop," she croaked.

Both Carl and the driver glanced up at her; Carl's insipid smile did not slip.

"Take my car… or something, there must be something else."

Carl evaluated her disdainfully as if she were little more than a smudge on his shoe. He somehow continued to look down on her despite being shorter in size.

"Sarah," He smiled. "I don't think you understand just how much money we're talking about here."

"Yes but I can win it back," She told him weakly, hoping it was true.

Carl laughed openly in her face.

"I don't believe in fairy tales you silly little girl."

"I'm not a little girl," she told him. "And it's not a fairy tale. I can do it; I can get your money back and more if you want."

Carl cocked his head to one side. He ran a lumpy hand over his face and assessed her carefully from head to foot, his lazy gaze making her stomach turn.

"You're not a little girl are you?" He asked.

Greedy hands patted his note book as his eyes swished between her and her brother.

"What makes you so sure you can get me my money?" He asked.

"Because I was given Certain Powers," she told him. They were The Right Words, she knew somehow. As if a light had been switched on in her head she knew it was the truth.

Carl smiled his Cheshire cat smile again and he laughed.

"Bruno let go of the boy," he called. "We'll take the girl instead."


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Labyrinth or it's inhabitants

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Sarah sat in the back seat of the blue Mercedes as it sped through the slowly darkening city.

She wasn't sure if night was creeping in or if colour was simply fading from her vision, her blood was cold in her veins.

"Don't you need to blindfold me or something?" She muttered.

Ears like a bat, Carl turned in his seat to glance over his shoulder.

"How cliché, did you think we were taking you to our 'hideout?'"

She had thought that actually, it made sense didn't it, wasn't that the way things were done in these situations?

"Where are we going?" She asked.

He ignored her now, inspecting his nails critically and giving directions to the driver as they spun further into the heart of the city.

Sarah didn't know this area, did it seem dark and foreboding or was that simply due to the company?

Carl's instructions to Bruno, the driver, became more and more detailed as they continued.

"You'll need to pick up some things," Sarah interrupted, licking her lips nervously.

"Hmmmm," murmured Carl non-committedly.

"Like scratchies or a lottery ticket…" Sarah continued.

She thought she saw Carl's cheek jerk, as if a sudden smirk had visited him. A sinking feeling had burrowed into the root of her stomach and made itself a home. He didn't really believe her, but he was still taking her somewhere. The only way she could possibly get out of this was to prove her talent; if she could convince him of it then she could use it to get herself out of trouble, to save her whole family from all of this.

The thought of her father was like a weight on her shoulders. As they had left he had refused to make eye contact with her, clearing his throat loudly and glancing away.

"Don't worry Sarah, I believe in you," he had told her. She had been dragged towards the car then, his sacrifice, his vice, his enabler.

She sighed heavily and leaned back against the plush velvet car seat cover, rubbing her cheek against the softness seeking comfort.

_This is a fine mess I've gotten myself into._

"I have never ever not won on a scratchy," she told them conversationally. Perhaps it was her nerves or perhaps it was self-preservation kicking in, she just needed them to understand.

"Every single ticket is a win, not always a big win but they're all winners."

Glancing up she caught Bruno's eye in the rear view mirror, she thought she could see the ghost of a smile on his face.

It gave her courage.

"Bigger competitions have better prizes, and competitions where you can only win big are the best because I'll always win. It's not just money either, I've won a cruise and a car before, all I need to do is enter…"

"Shut up," growled Carl cutting her off.

As if the engine itself had heard him the car came to a sudden stop and Bruno fumbled with his seatbelt.

Sarah looked up through the tinted windows and saw they had pulled into a gas station.

_Somewhat anticlimactic…_

She fidgeted awkwardly in the backseat as she watched Bruno exit the car and start the pump.

Carl pulled a cell phone from his pocket and scrolled through his contact list, selecting one and holding the piece to his ear.

"Yeah it's me," he told someone. "I've got some merchandise, nah not that one it's something else. Send Cindy by the usual place will you, room 505."

With a grunt he hung up the phone and continued to play with it in the front seat.

Sarah jumped as Bruno's door opened suddenly and he climbed back into the car. He turned towards Carl as if to say something, but then thought better of it and placed his keys in the ignition to start the car.

Sarah travelled the rest of the way in silence with her eyes locked on the city outside.

She didn't think they had come very far but she didn't recognise the area. She wished she did, it felt like knowing where she was might be useful later. She tried to make a note of interesting landmarks on the way. A Mexican shop with a sombrero shaped roof, an odd looking piece of modern art which was all twists and loops, a car raised onto a post reigning over a used car lot.

Outside everyday people were going about their everyday lives as if nothing was amiss.

Before long they pulled up in front of a hotel high rise and Bruno turned off the car.

When he opened the car door for her she got out obediently.

The hotel building was neat and tidy from the outside, the slate walls shone with a mineral lustre in the fading daylight. It looked to be about 16 storeys high and was fairly modern in design, dark windows reflected piteously from above. The short pathway to the entryway was pavement which was been spray paved to resemble a large black and white tile pattern. Small drought hardy plants such as penstemon and lamb's ears lined the tile borders, dwarfed by larger succulents scattered in a design to make the entrance appear inviting.

As they passed under the canopy veranda, Sarah craned her neck to catch sight of the hotel name. 'The Sloan' it read and she shook her head, it was unfamiliar.

Carl took the lead and they formed a line, she was in the middle and Bruno followed behind her to finish the column, they made their way through the front doors.

Inside a large arc of glass separated the foyer area from the reception check in. A glass wall fountain trickled pleasantly against a wall to the right while double lifts sat to the left. The same black and white floor tiling continued into the building but had now graduated from cement to actual tiles.

Carl nodded to the receptionist at the desk who turned away with a tight smile; he turned and made his way towards the lift.

As they crowded into the tiny metal box together Sarah felt a wave of madness roll over her, it was all so casual, as if they were going to dinner together or out to a movie.

Carl leaned forward and pushed the button for the fifth floor. Sarah eyed the 'help' button hungrily, not that the hotel staff would be of much use to her now, not that she could trust they weren't part of Carl's business. She remembered the way the little blonde receptionist's eyes had glazed when she had seen him, fluttering away like moths. If she was going to find assistance it would need to be from the outside.

When they arrived on the fifth floor Sarah's feet were heavy on the red plush carpet as she followed them to a room a few doors down. The 'Room 505' name plate leered down at her from a doorway tucked between layers of tacky embossed wallpaper. Bruno swiped an entry card over the dull metal panel to the side of the door and the little LED display glowed green. He pushed open the door and nudged her forward; Sarah found her feet would not comply.

"In," Commanded Carl and she was pushed from behind, tripping on her feet and ending up sprawled on a green plush rug inside the room. There was a rustle behind her and a plastic bag was thrown in to land unceremoniously atop the king size bed dominating the main wall of the room. A bottle of water crashed out of the bag and rolled across the floor to settle in an adjoining doorway. Behind her Sarah heard the door snap shut and the lock click into place.

She sat in a heap feeling dazed, lime walls spun around her, large replica art prints danced across her vision as she took deep breaths and tried to steady her nerves. Inching along the ground she made her way to the foot of the bed and pulled herself up onto unsteady feet.

It was a fair sized apartment. It was sparsely furnished with a white painted bedframe, vanity unit and a small side table with a pale green chaise lounge by the window.

Sarah ran to the window, stumbling on her ungainly feet, and wrenched at the window frame. It stuck fast, painted shut from the look of it, heavy layers of white paint congealed into a mess of semi-gloss lacquer. She looked out and reminded herself that she was five storeys up, no short jumping distance.

_Well in a labyrinth maybe…_

She stepped back from the window shakily.

If she could think of a way to get down she could always break the window, something like a rope. Looking around her heart fell when she saw the bed, unmade, no sheets, just a mattress. She glanced back to the window, no curtains.

Thinking, she wandered over to the door which extended into the bathroom, stooping to pick up the lost water bottle on the way.

There was no shower curtain.

The bathroom was fairly modern, a stand-alone shower enclosed with a Perspex shower door. A small spa bathtub built into the corner of the bathroom was surrounded by flat white tiles fringed by a delicate gold border tile with an ornate leaf design. The floor tiles were dark and grained to prevent slipping.

No complimentary toothbrush, no towels in the cupboard, nothing.

This room was not prepared for guests.

Sarah stalked back into the main room and forcefully opened all the drawers of the vanity.

Nothing.

Disgusted she sat down on the bed and put her head in her hands.

She wouldn't cry, crying wasn't going to help.

She felt the tell-tale lump in her throat belying her thoughts.

Taking a deep shuddering breath she lay back on the mattress and tried to think. Her hand caught the edge of the plastic bag and she twisted it angrily, flinging it from the bed.

Slightly heavier than expected it made it a foot from the bed frame and slid across the floor.

Sitting up Sarah stared at it curiously. Getting onto her hands and knees she reached off the bed precariously to snag it with her fingers and pull it into her lap. Shaking it, she emptied the contents in front of her and felt her heart soar.

Scratchies, Bruno must have bought some at the gas station.

Fanning them out before her she smiled, five, which should be more than enough to prove a point.

Feeling hopeful she stretched her fingers and picked up the first one; tilting the fingernail of her thumb to a more suitable angle she made short work of the opaque covering on the card.

Ten dollar win.

Crossing her legs she reached for the next one and scratched them all in turn.

Two dollar wins for all the remainders, still, it was something.

As she shuffled the cards into a pile in front of her she heard the tell-tale beep and click of the door lock as it swung open to reveal a skinny woman in her forties.

The woman skulked in and the door shut fast behind her.

She was tall and lithe, perhaps she had once been a beauty but now layers of clogged makeup had been heavily applied and the result was unbecoming. Bright blue eye shadow bruised her eye lids and fire truck red lipstick had been hastily applied to her thin lips, overlapping them to try and fulfil the appearance of a fuller pout on a mouth holding tight to her cigarette. She was wearing low cut jeans which looked well-worn and a midriff top which was extremely unbecoming on a woman of her age, a nasty looking surgical scar dipped below her left breast down to her navel. Long limp hair was plastered across her forehead and spilled over her thin bony shoulders in oily bunches.

"Ay," She said, appraising Sarah with a sniff. "Come on girl, up now; let me 'ave a look at you."

Sarah crawled to the edge of the bed and stood obediently.

This woman didn't seem to be much of a threat, but it was hard to say.

"Who are you?" She asked.

The woman sniffed loudly again and wiggled her mouth, rolling the cigarette around her lips. She brought ruby clawed fingernails up to remove it.

"I'm Cindy," she introduced herself, flicking ash on the floor. "Come here."

Sarah hesitated before walking over the woman who simply continued to look at her.

"Turn around," She instructed.

Sarah turned slowly, becoming nervous the second her eyes were off the woman and spinning back with a flourish.

Cindy puffed out a cloud of smoke and sniffed noisily.

"How old are you?" She probed.

"Why?" Asked Sarah.

"Because I'm _evaluating_ you," Cindy told her. "As in seeking your value, seeing how much you are worth to us."

Sarah felt sick.

"What for?" She asked.

"I don't know what you'll be for yet, that's what I'm here to figure out." Cindy snorted. "How old are you?"

"Twenty one," answered Sarah automatically.

Cindy walked over to her and Sarah backed away unconsciously. Sighing Cindy chased her backwards into a wall and then jerked a perfectly manicured nail between her lips to pull her mouth open. She made a humming sound in the back of her throat as she inspected what she found there.

"Ever been with a man?" Cindy asked, dropping her hand from Sarah's mouth.

Sarah flushed, that was a very personal question.

"Yes," She replied, it was true. She hoped that it dropped her value for that sort of industry.

_What other sort of industry do you think she's sizing you up for?_ She thought hopelessly.

After some intimate measuring, which involved a little too much fondling for Sarah's tastes; Cindy was finally satisfied with the result. Sniffing again she waved Sarah back to the bed and started fishing in her pocket for her pass key to the door.

"Where will they send me?" Sarah asked nervously, not sure whether she really wanted a response, she clutched the scratchy tickets in her hand until her knuckles were white, the sharp corners cutting into her palm.

"They…" Cindy stopped. Her eyes glinted on Sarah's hands and a shrewd look came over her. "Is that a winner?"

She reached down and tried to pull the scratchies from Sarah's hands as she clutched them protectively. Cindy snarled and tried to wrestle them from her but Sarah was unrelenting and refused to let them go.

Cursing Cindy swung her cigarette at Sarah who soon felt the sharp sting of it on the back of her hand. Gasping in shock she automatically released the little cards from her hand and into Cindy's possession.

Crowing at her win Cindy left the room victorious, the familiar click of the lock following her.

Sarah did cry then.

She cried like she would never stop, for hours maybe, with all of the desperation she had felt. She cried until her heart hurt and until the loss of her last chance was salved by the numbness that washed over her once all the tears were dried. She sat on the unmade bed in the dark and listened to the quiet.

It was well past the time she was supposed to have eaten her dinner. It was her birthday, she was hungry, and those were the least of her problems.

At length there was the sound of footsteps in the hall beyond the door and she stiffened, prepared for the fate that followed.

As she saw Bruno's familiar bulk in the doorway she cursed herself, why hadn't she found herself a weapon to fight with?

Her fingers dug into the mattress beneath her as Bruno approached her; fronds of light filtered in through the window and fought the shadows on his face. He stopped at the foot of the bed and cleared his throat.

"Boss said you'd better win big this time." He told her.

Sarah stared up at him, she felt like her brain had short circuited, she stared dumbly, trying to see his face in the dark to gain understanding.

There was the noise of a plastic bag and its contents tumbled out onto the mattress before her.

Scratchies, a lot of them.

Sarah felt a breath she hadn't known she was holding whoosh out of her lungs in relief.

Cindy had taken them to Carl, of course she had. Why had she thought she was stealing them anyway? Carl must have mentioned it to her, as a joke perhaps, but they'd gone where they needed to go. She was one step closer to being taken seriously.

As Bruno left the room she started to laugh. Hysterical laughter escaped her, she felt half mad with grief and fear and surprise. She rolled around on top of the scratchies giggling and choking back sobs at the same time.

Eventually she was simply lying there in the dark breathing deeply, she needed to calm down and clear her head. Everything was going to be okay.

Slipping over the side of the bed she tried to skirt the room carefully, fumbling the walls for a light switch in the dark. When she found it the bulb hummed on, casting a pitiful glow around the room and glinting off the faux metallic shine from the scratch cards.

Carefully Sarah counted them out and laid them in lines before her.

Thirty cards, it was definitely enough for a good win.

She was grinning now, she couldn't help herself. Leaning back she found the bottle of water and took a long eager swig. Refreshed she turned back to the cards and began to work away the panels hiding her future.

She was only three in before her first loss.

She stared at it for a long time, she rechecked it.

It was still not a win. It was completely alien to her.

She never lost.

Picking up the next card she scratched again. No win.

A sick feeling unfolded in her stomach as she reached for yet another.

In no time at all she had scratched all of them, three wins and twenty seven losses.

Her luck had run out.

The maniacal laughter threatened to rise in her chest again and she pushed it down to simmer with the sick swirl in her belly.

Her breathing was shallow as she pushed herself from the bed, spilling the cards onto the floor in her passage.

On shaky legs she crossed the room to the doorway and pushed against it. Raging she slammed her fists into it and tried with all her might to push it open, she kicked, she screamed and she cried with everything that was left inside of her. When she was empty she sank down to the ground panting with exertion.

Her luck had run out.

Time passed but no one came, the scratchies on the floor mocked her as the sparkled under the dull glow of the light bulb.

Exhausted Sarah crawled over to the window and stared out into the dark night sky. For a moment her eyes flickered down to the ground. Was five storeys really that high, too high to jump?

It seemed to be an effort to draw breath, to even exist. She pushed her palm against the cold pane of glass before her and looked up into the universe, searching for answers.

A solitary star twinkled back at her from the dark.

"Oh I wish…" She started, stopping herself automatically before she finished.

"Yes precious?" Came a voice from behind her, a voice she hadn't heard since her childhood. "I do hope you'll finish that thought."

* * *

**Kaytori - **Thanks for your constructive feedback, with that in mind (and since the way forward is also the way back) I've gone and made a few changes to the first chapter, nothing major but just a bit of finesse on that flat conversation and some additional description.

**Next chapter will have Jareth!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer:** I do not own the Labyrinth or it's inhabitants

* * *

Sarah stood staring out of the window for a long time. She wasn't sure if she had the courage to turn around and find out if he was really standing behind her.

She knew he must be.

She could hear him breathing over her shoulder, but some part of her, a part which had always wondered if she hadn't imagined everything about the labyrinth, just couldn't accept that the Goblin King was in the same room.

It warred against the intake of breath she could hear, the soft exhale fanning across her bare shoulder. Without an explanation for these phenomena it remained adamant that the fairy tale creature behind her did not exist, could not exist, and was simply a figment of her desperate imagination.

She was desperate; she had been far too close to making that wish.

"What are you doing here Goblin King?" She eventually asked.

Her voice was shaky even to her own ears. Still she could not turn to face him, both hoping and dreading that he was actually there.

"I was rather hoping," echoed his voice from behind her, "that you would finish that sentence."

"But I didn't," she told him coolly, "and I won't."

She turned then to find the room empty. Sucking in a breath, she felt a bitter wave of disappointment wash over her. Had she imagined him or had he left because she had hadn't finished the wish. She blinked back angry tears in the dull light and placed the palm of her hand against her chest, her heart thundered beneath her touch, her pulse dancing madly at the close encounter.

"Oh I think you might," disagreed the disembodied voice of the Goblin King, so close she could feel his breath on her cheek.

She spun to confront him but only found her own pale, wide-eyed reflection looking back at her from the window pane. Turning she made a circuit of the room but failed to find him. She peered into the bathroom but found it empty, stooping she looked under the bed but was again disappointed.

"What harm is there in a little wish Sarah?" He called to her.

She twisted towards his voice again, unnerved to find the space empty.

Was she going mad?

She walked back towards the window and glanced at her likeness. Her eyes were wild and frightened, reddened from crying. She looked both exhausted and heart broken and she felt it was an honest depiction. Closing her eyes she calmed herself mentally, counting slowly to ten both forwards and backwards. She slowed her breathing into a comfortable rhythm and listened to the dull thud of her heart beat as it eventually slowed from its erratic surge. When she opened her eyes again she looked into the reflective surface of the window and waited.

"Where are you?" She asked.

"I should think that was obvious," he drawled.

In the window she could see a whisper of her hair move, caught by his reply. She could not, however, see him. She had a reasonably expansive view of the room from this vantage point, he was not there.

"Why can't I see you?"

"Would you like to?" He chuckled, "Have you missed me Sarah?"

The way he said her name sent goose bumps up her spine, or perhaps that was his hot breath on her neck. Nervously she laced her fingers together and squeezed them tightly closed in front of her.

_Calm Sarah, remain calm._

She waited patiently then, ignoring his baiting. The cage of her fingers helped her feel solid, whole; she watched the reflection hopefully.

She could hear him sigh with irritation; he was not as close now. She felt her taut muscles relax, not realising how tightly coiled her body had become in the tense atmosphere.

Then suddenly she could see it in the windows mirror image, as subtle as a murmur. The floral print mattress suddenly bowed slightly with the weight of a body's imprint, the indentation of a solid figure sitting on the corner of the padding; evidence of existence.

She spun towards him, taking a second to recalibrate the room in her mind, which was a reverse replica of the one she had been watching. It was there, she could see where unfurling fabric flowers dipped and distorted to hold his weight. She tried to gauge the height of his face from the sitting position and levelled her gaze.

"Clever girl," He said. She could hear the smile in his voice, coloured with admiration.

"Why can't I see you?" She asked again.

Rather than frightened now she felt curious. What was there to be frightened of anyway? She was already in such an extreme situation that even the King of Goblins in all his baby snatching glory could do little to worsen her circumstances.

She saw the weight on the mattress shift subtly and imagined him leaning back languidly to assess her.

"I have no power over you," he reminded her in a low growl. "No power over your dreaming or waking mind. No power over your senses."

She saw the mattress spring up as he stood, and tried to follow his imagined path. She felt she could hear his step now, so light it might have been no more than her heartbeat in her ears, as he paced across the room.

"No power to be seen or smelt or heard."

The light footfalls edged closer and Sarah felt herself become very still. The air around her was electric with his presence, it seemed to grow thicker as he approached and she struggled with the heavy oxygen each time she drew breath.

"No power to speak."

She could feel him now, next to her, too close. The air was positively dizzy with his existence. As if mocking that she had ever doubted he was here, ever thought he might not exist.

"No power to touch or taste," he whispered intimately into her ear. His warm breath tickled her earlobe and sent a shudder through her that she fought to suppress.

He laughed a wicked laugh then and Sarah swallowed heavily, licking her lips.

"Why can I hear you then?" She frowned. "I'm speaking to you right now."

"Because you wanted to," he explained, his voice velvet. "You wanted help, you wanted to make a wish, you wanted _me_."

Sarah didn't feel that was quite right, it didn't make much sense either.

"I did want help," she agreed. "But I did not call to you specifically."

"But I was listening," she heard him smile. "You wanted help, I am helpful. This sort of help requires communication and therefore you unwittingly revoked some of the power I did not have over you with your wanting."

That frightened Sarah a little, how much of the power had been revoked, just hearing and speech, just communication? Had he been waiting all this time for just such an opportunity to gain back this advantage?

"But I didn't call to _you_," she accused.

"And yet here I am," he finished. "You said 'I wish', Sarah dear, you started a contract, but you forgot to be specific in just who should _grant_ the wish."

The air positively burst with his victorious conceit.

"What's said is said," he reminded her, foreseeing the backpedalling his explanation would ensue.

Sarah felt her teeth click together as he cut her off. An angry scowl cut a line down her brow as she glared in his general direction.

The bounce of the mattress indicated he had returned to his perch now, smug and fulfilled from their battle of wits.

"So if I wanted to see you all I would require is… the inclination to see you?" She seethed.

"Do you want to see me Sarah?" He asked. Sarah imagined him cocking an upswept eyebrow, a smirk twisting his lips.

"Yes," she said, and realised at the same time.

Just like that he was there.

As the word dropped from her lips the Goblin King who had been lounging invisibly on the mattress was as solid as the bed itself. Reclining back indolently, a smirk flirted across his lips while his eyes were shuttered and fixed on her face.

He was beautiful.

The cascade of wild silvery blonde hair framed his perfect face, glowing softly under the dismal florescent lighting. His sharp features were pointed and predatory, alien in their exquisiteness, his skin glimmering with a mineral shine.

Ice blue eyes sliced through her with a cold hard intelligence, one pupil fully dilated and both brushed by upswept brows drawn haughtily high. His lips were thin but curved nicely, pulled tight into a condescending smirk under her scrutiny.

Everything about him was jagged and severe, completely inhuman.

Stepping towards him as if entranced she could see he wore high leather boots over tight black leggings. A loose white poets shirt opened generously to display the perfect curve of his collar bone, a hint of muscled chest and the glint of a chain at his throat, hanging low.

She stared and her legs shuffled forward against her will.

Her memories of him had been flimsy by comparison, grey images which represented no more than a shadow of the bright being who stood before her.

"Something to say Sarah dear?" He purred, confident in her evaluation.

"Or is there something you've always wanted to tell me perhaps?"

It broke the spell over her.

His fey beauty was a danger; she would have pinched herself if she hadn't known it would make him laugh.

"Yes there is something I've always wanted to ask." She agreed; her voice low and seductive.

He smiled indulgently and tipped his head back to admire her. Obviously, embarrassingly, no doubt much like she had just been doing.

"Do tell precious," he smirked, clearly appreciative of what the passing years had enhanced. He leaned forward and parted his lips slightly; she could see the glimmer of sharpened teeth beneath the curl of his lip.

Drawing courage she crossed the room towards him.

"Don't you think," she started to ask, swishing her hips obviously as she made her way to stand before him. She leaned down to bring their faces close. "That your pants are just a touch tight?"

His smile didn't as much as flicker, he met the challenge in her eyes eagerly.

"If they don't meet with your approval I could always take them off." He replied menacingly.

She stepped back with her hands thrown up in submission.

"Oh no," she taunted. "I couldn't bear it if you should catch a chill, you might appear a lesser man in the cold."

Her eyes darted downwards to drive the point home.

Growling he stood and the force of his existence pressured her backwards until she was pressed against the wall closest to the locked door. He crowded her until she had shrunk as flat as she could against the bright lime walls, washed grey by the night and the poor lighting.

He did not touch her. Could not, she remembered.

Still she cowered beneath him as she looked up into his darkened eyes, hungry eyes, haunted. She turned her face to one side, breaking eye contact with him, her heart fluttering a jittery dance in her breast.

"Sarah," he murmured.

She felt her breath hitch unexpectedly as the name brushed her cheek.

"You're not a little girl anymore," he continued, baring his teeth. "Don't expect me to play nicely with you now you're all grown up."

He stepped back from her then and it was like a blow. Like the removal of his presence stole something from the atmosphere, the space where he had been hung empty, scarred by his loss.

"I don't recall you ever being very nice to me" she replied tartly. Her breathy voice betrayed her, weak and low against his onslaught.

"Oh I was very generous with you." He smirked. "And here I am again at your beckoned call. Consider that it might be you who is far too greedy."

Sarah gave a derisive snort and stepped away from him. She turned and threw herself into the chaise behind her; to her chagrin she found it was disgracefully under stuffed and its sharp planes punched into her ferociously.

Trying to remain as unaffected by his presence as was possible, Sarah imitated his indolent pose and raised her chin as she turned to face him again.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" she scoffed, twirling her hand in an exaggerated manner.

"The wish," He commanded, eyes narrowed. "Feel free to finish it anytime now."

Sarah stuck out her bottom lip as her mouth hardened.

"No"

"So you're choosing to stay here," he smiled knowingly. "You don't want to go home perhaps? Actually I hear the Labyrinth is lovely this time of year if you're interested."

"I'm not," she grated.

The Goblin King made and irritated sound in his throat but his mocking smile told Sarah it had been no more than a jibe.

"Not that this charming lime room isn't just a delight."

"I won't ever make the mistake of risking Toby again Goblin King" She interrupted.

His scornful laughter filled the small room, rocketing off the walls and pinning her to the chaise with its biting force.

"Toby?" He laughed, his hand at his breast trying to capture the swell of girth which overcame him. "Ahh what age must he be now, twelve, thirteen? A little bit tall for a goblin wouldn't you say?"

A smile pulled his face as if he enjoyed a private joke.

Sarah blinked and then frowned at him.

"Eight and a half," she told him mirthlessly.

The Goblin King leaned forward on the bed and Sarah found herself pushing back against the chaise instinctively.

"And you think I want to trade you a wish for an eight and a half year old?" He asked. "Seriously?"

His smile was sharp as a knife, his pointed teeth adding to its viciousness as his lips curled again in a sneer.

"You did want him," She accused. "You took him."

He leaned back and regarded her from beneath lowered lashes.

"Two different things precious," he growled. "You wished, I took. There was no _wanting_."

Sarah felt stunned by this.

In all these years she had assumed that the Goblin King had granted her wish because _he_ had wanted Toby, but now it came down to the fact that he had granted her wish because_ she_ had wanted it. In her mind that made the wish even more dangerous, the near loss of her brother was now weighted entirely on her, not some greedy king who went around collecting children.

"So when you granted my wish," mused Sarah. "Then what _did _you get in return?"

"Your brother," He answered immediately.

Sarah gave him an exasperated look and his smirk softened into a self-depreciating smile.

"I did not say it was the best deal I've ever struck. I am the Goblin King, king of broken dreams and unwanted things, the lost, the forgotten. These are the only things I can trade for; they must be given freely for a wish to be granted. You wished away something that was unwanted, paying for your wish with the same currency that brought it about."

Incredulity filled her as she examined what he was telling her.

"Then why did I run the Labyrinth?" she asked.

The Goblin King made a bored sound and stood to pace the room, his long strides cutting across it with a dizzying swiftness.

"You wanted to take the wish back," he replied. "This is your right, but only if you can take back what you have paid." He shrugged, "one and the same in this case. You ran the Labyrinth and took him back, you undid the wish."

"But you tried to stop me, tried to bribe me with my dreams, with…"

"Myself?" Offered the Goblin King; sitting again restlessly. "Quite, but not because I desired the child, breaking a wish causes rather a lot of backlash Sarah; I would've tried to do just about anything to prevent it."

Sarah sat up straight on the chaise and regarded him carefully.

"What sort of backlash?" She asked.

"The 'you have no power over me kind' obviously." He yawned. There was something else; Sarah had seen it flit across his face quickly before he had hidden it. She stared him down as if given enough time her eyes might manage to penetrate his mask.

_A mask which is probably thousands of years in the making, who am I kidding?_

The Goblin King gave an exaggerated stretch and then bent forwards towards her, cupping his chin in his hand, his elbow propped on his knee. He ran one long sculpted finger over his lips as he smiled at her.

"So the wish Sarah…" He began.

She shook her head forcefully as if to deny him.

"Very well," he grumbled. "At least frame the problem for me without the words, the situation is not as self-explanatory as one might expect."

He waved his gloved hand lazily as if to suggest their surroundings.

Sarah sighed.

She felt slightly defeated. The Goblin King was here and it seemed for better or worse he wasn't going anywhere. She pitied herself that his company was probably the best she had had today and he had freely offered more answers than she had sought, whether they were half-truths or not.

She sighed again loudly.

His mouth quirked slightly as he sat across from her.

"You're being rude Sarah." He told her.

She forced herself to sit still, an agitation had washed over her and she wanted to pace as he had, or fly at the door again screaming. Beneath it all however she was bone weary and mentally drained, she wasn't sure she had the energy to deny him or the patience to out wait him.

Picking up the water bottle again she took a sip and then screwed the lid back on. She offered it to the Goblin King and he raised an eyebrow at the bottle suspiciously.

"Do you want a drink?" She asked him.

He regarded it as if it might be a dangerous object.

"In trade for a wish?" He suggested distastefully.

She laughed then, not quite the hysterical laughter that had filled her earlier but a querulous bark of shock at his aversion.

He jumped in surprise at the outburst, his narrowed eyes sliding off the bottle to examine her.

"Not as trade, a peace offering perhaps, I thought you might be thirsty."

He gave her a doubtful look but accepted the bottle from her, pinching the neck of it between two fingers as if it were something unpleasant. He placed it in his lap and there it sat, he made no move to open it.

Sarah couldn't help but wonder if she was being ridiculous, did he even eat and drink?

"This," She started pointedly, indicating the space around them. "Is all really your fault."

He gave a snort then, his contemptuous look crashing back into place.

"I fail to see how that is the case," he argued.

"Certain Powers," she sniffed. "It's all because of the Certain Powers."

"Certain Powers?" He echoed, obviously completely lost on her meaning.

"You gave them to me," she accused. "You gave me Certain Powers. The power of luck, I've always been very lucky and it's because of you."

The Goblin King raised his eyebrows with the first hint of awareness. "How terrible for you," he drawled.

"It is terrible!" she tried to yell. Tried and failed, her voice was little more than a croak, emotion had rolled into her words and a sob had tried to edge its way out of her mouth against her will. She fought to control the wave so that she could continue.

"Some of it was good," she went on. "Never having to worry if I'd taken an umbrella or not on a cloudy day, never worrying that the teacher would check the homework I hadn't done, things went my way, I didn't miss out and I didn't get into trouble, that luck was good and simple. To be honest I might never had noticed it was something abnormal if I had never gambled, never entered a competition, but once I saw the pattern… Once my father saw, he strove to test its limits, to see how far it could stretch. He came to rely on it; he began to over reach himself believing that the luck would always bail him out."

She visibly deflated in the chair, it hurt to talk about it and right now, and today with all that had happened it cut especially close to the bone.

"So in a nutshell these are our worries, we owe a lot of money to someone and we cannot pay. I have come here as collateral to avoid Toby being taken. I thought once I was here the luck could get me through but…" She indicated the scratched tickets. "The luck ran out."

The Goblin King pinched the bridge of his nose and ran a hand through his hair.

"Let me get this straight," he commanded. "You think that I _gave_ you Certain Powers, and you think these powers manifested as some sort of legendary lucky streak, which then ran out all of a sudden just when you needed it the most."

Sarah's eyes narrowed suspiciously at him, had there been a hint of guilt in his voice? Perhaps not, she knew she was probably being paranoid. She had thought for a second that the rending of the powers might be his will, but then he still had no power over her, or not enough for that effect she suspected.

"Somehow all of this explains why you are in a cheap hotel room and why you are so angry at some shiny pieces of papers." He finished pointedly.

"Scratch cards," she informed him. "Scratchies, it was how I was going to prove I was valuable to them, lucky. If I could win money, a big win then they wouldn't…"

Sarah trailed off then, realising she wasn't exactly sure what they would do to her, she suspected, of course, the sort of industry it would involve, but that didn't bear thinking about.

Her throat felt dry, she eyed the bottle still sitting pleasantly in the Goblin Kings lap.

"Are you going to drink that?" She croaked.

Uncomprehending the Goblin King stared down at the bottle. "Wasn't it a gift?"

Sarah rolled her eyes but let it be, who was she to explain the concept of sharing to the Goblin King.

Frowning he patted the bottle slightly and met her gaze.

"So your _wish_," contemplated the Goblin King as he rolled the word around on his tongue, unwilling to let it go. "Would be that I take these little paper things and what, spin them into gold?"

"Of course not," Sarah argued. "We don't use gold as an everyday currency, we have bills and coins, money, and that's still not right anyway. My wish is for the scratch cards to all be winners."

Horror struck she slapped her hands over her mouth, her eyes the size of saucers as the Goblin King towered over he without ever moving from his seat. A lifetime of being cautious, a lifetime of holding her tongue and it had slipped out like it was nothing. Her fear and her exhaustion had weakened her and in her weakness she had said the words.

A light of exaltation burned in the Goblin King's eyes and his shadow fell across her, an odious foretelling.

"Close enough precious," He purred. "Now what will you trade?"

* * *

Thank you everyone for you support!

This one was a little later to bring together because the story is taking a slightly unexpected path from what I initially envisioned (or rather it will be taking one). This will mean it will be longer and more complex than I originally sought to make it, by no will of my own I assure you, the Labyrinth within me has commanded it.

**Lost O'Fallon Girl:** Oh yes you'll love me now. I make no apologies for being so cruel, and I can only promise it will not be the last time... In fact we'll all be lucky if it's not_ every_ time.


	4. Chapter 4

I do not own the Labyrinth or it's denizens.

* * *

Sarah lay on the under-stuffed chaise staring at the ceiling in a near stupor.

She hadn't thought the night could get any worse, yet here she was in the company of the Goblin King and very much in his power if she wasn't mistaken.

_What's the good of him having no power over me if I'm handing it to him on a silver platter?_

"You cannot delay the inevitable Sarah," came the singsong voice of the Goblin King.

Rather than turn towards his gloating smile she continued to wallow in her own stupidity. The longer she refused to accept the inevitable, she reasoned, was longer she could escape reality.

With a sigh she closed her eyes and tried to enjoy how the cushioned fabric beneath her held her comfortably, but since it didn't the exercise was rather futile.

"I don't want the wish," she said, not particularly talking to him, but rather airing the thought aloud.

"Yet the wish has been made," he pronounced, with the finality of an executioner.

"I didn't really say the exact words," she protested. "I didn't say _I wish_"

From the corner of her eye she could see him shrug off her complaint.

"Semantics," he argued. "Who ever said the magic words were _that_ narrow, you voiced the wish aloud."

He grinned wolfishly as she twisted her head to regard him.

"Besides you did say _I wish_, it drew me here remember? You had already started the wish, now you have finished it, the bits in between don't matter."

There wasn't much arguing with that Sarah supposed, she had said _I wish_, and she had voiced a wish, no matter how you looked at it a wish had been made eventually.

"Poor really though, wasn't it?" suggested the Goblin King. "I guess that comes with not putting much thought into it."

A glimmer of outrage lit Sarah's insides for a moment as she turned herself in the chair to stare the Goblin King down.

"I'm terribly sorry my wish isn't to your liking, she growled. "What exactly were you expecting?"

The Goblin King leaned forward on the bed until his face was the same height as hers.

"Not much I'll grant," he baited. "Not from someone who goes around wishing away children."

Sarah felt her face burn with indignation as she remained silent, he was right but he didn't need to rub it in her face.

"Many people make foolish wishes, it's not like genies are popping up all over the place to grant them," she finally reasoned. "Besides I was just a child."

"GENIES?" Spat the Goblin King in outrage. "Is that what you think I am Sarah, that you rubbed your magic…" The Goblin King waved the water bottle violently with his hand. "Drink and I appeared to grant you three wishes?"

Sarah forced a hoarse laugh as she watched his growing ire; there was nothing vaguely magical about a 600ml water bottle.

"Actually I wished upon a star but somehow I doubt you're the Blue Fairy," she countered.

She heard his snort of irritation and enjoyed the short lapse of silence that followed. She doubted he understood the Disney reference but was sure that the maliciousness in her voice had driven the point home.

As the silence stretched out she unintentionally voiced the question she had long pondered since the Goblin King had first appeared to her all those years ago.

"Why are some wishes granted but others are overlooked?"

For a while she thought he might not answer, she listened to his steady breathing as she turned her face back towards the ceiling.

"Was my wish granted because I said The Right Words?"

"What Right Words?" he queried.

"That I wi…" Sarah stopped, snapping her teeth together violently. "Oh nice try Goblin King, I won't make the same mistake twice in one night."

She could hear his throaty chuckle from the bed as he enjoyed her anger.

"Was it because I said the words from the book?"

The Goblin King's mirth transformed into a deep growl at her suggestion and there was a sudden indelible tension in the air around them.

"There are several factors for wishes," he finally explained, his voice short. "Need is one, greed is another, belief or some form is also necessary when forming the wish. In the end the ultimate decision lies with the granter. Some we can pick from, others we are compelled towards, but it is our choice to take the wish or leave it."

When Sarah turned back towards him she was surprised to see his face was slightly more open, as if he gazed inwardly rather than outward as he made the explanation. It made her want to study him intently, as if this might be her only chance to make him out while his defences were fractured by the question.

"The pull of your original wish was quite compelling. I was listening out for your wishes after that. It's unusual really, the nature of most wishes is greed based, but not with you, your wishes are based on need."

As his eyes regained focus and met Sarah's, coldness clamped back over his features and he regarded her coolly.

"Why didn't you wish to escape?" He asked seriously.

Sarah smiled at him and wondered if he would understand.

"For the same reason I didn't accept the dreams you offered me," she told him.

She could tell from his frown that the reasoning eluded him and always had. She wondered at that, had he never had anything important he wanted to protect?

She felt foolish now that she had panicked when her luck had first run out, how could she have ever thought she could leave this place? It was like her body had acted on its own, flight over fight, self-preservation. She didn't want to be that selfish person anymore. She had sworn to herself years ago when she had returned from the Labyrinth with Toby that she would never think only of herself, and yet tonight she had almost undone it all as soon as she had lost hope.

She could argue that she was only being sensible; Irene would have taken Toby somewhere safe by now wouldn't she? Somehow she knew however that Irene wouldn't leave Robert and he would wait for Sarah, believing until the end that she could make it right. The power of belief, it sat heavily upon her as she watched the Goblin King, did it ever weigh heavily upon him?

"What will you take for my wish Goblin King?" She finally asked him, watching him blink in surprise as she returned to the subject closest to his heart.

"What indeed," he sighed. "What will you give me Sarah, something broken, something unwanted?"

He smiled bitterly and his sharp teeth flashed in the dull glow of the room.

"How about your father this time?" he proposed.

Sarah swallowed a heavy lump in her throat.

_Something unwanted…_

He was joking, she was almost sure he was, but somehow the suggestion had hit too close to home. It was like him to be cruel, to play on the fact that it wouldn't be the first time she had forfeited a family member, but now she was here for her family. If something was unwanted it was her, but right now she felt so betrayed by her father that his suggestion was far too close to her inner thoughts and it frightened her.

"How about this?" She croaked. Reaching into the neckline of her sun dress she drew out the white gold locket which sat snugly against her breast.

It had been a gift from her father for her seventeenth birthday. Little filigree etched leaves circled the engraving on the front, 'Lucky Sarah', it read. Inside she had placed a picture of her mother on one side and on the other a family photo of Irene, Toby, her father and herself.

She could not trade her father but she could trade this in his place to abate her anger and sorrow. The thought was soothing somehow; as if the pendant could take the blame for all that had happened. As the 'Lucky Sarah' engraving caught the light a jolt of pain lanced through her and she quickly snapped the catch on the back of the necklace open and drew it away from her neck. She thrust it towards the Goblin King as an offering.

Smiling lazily the Goblin King regarded the locket from his sitting position.

"You're sure this is unwanted?" he asked.

She nodded her consent and tried to ensure her hand was not shaking as she held it out to him.

"A completely unimportant item?" He insisted.

"It holds sentimental value only," Sarah assured him.

"And sentimentality is worth nothing?"

"Not to me, not right now," she replied grimly as her fingers loosened on the chain.

The Goblin King stretched out his gloved palm and held in beneath the locket as if to catch it when she released it. Hesitating she glanced down at his palm and, rather than dropping the locket, brought her hand down to place it gently in his outstretched hand. As her fingers brushed across his she could hear their combined intake of breath at the contact.

Blinking up at him she saw the same surprise reflected there.

"I can touch you," she said in wonder.

"So it would seem," he agreed. His poker face returning as he brushed his gloved fingers across the spot where their hands had touched before turning his attention to the necklace.

"But you cannot touch me," Sarah assured herself.

"Quite," he bit out. Distractedly he flicked the locket open and stared at the tiny images within before closing it again and gripping it tightly in his palm.

_He didn't know._

Sarah wondered if he had any idea of the limitations of having no power over her, she had power over him it seemed. As much power as any mortal could have over an ethereal, powerful, immortal being of course, which wasn't much, she figured.

"So what happens now?" She asked. Sitting up Sarah tried to arrange herself comfortably on the chaise, wondering if such a thing was even possible.

"Now I grant the wish," he shrugged, tucking the necklace into his shirt.

"So you'll change these scratch cards into winners?"

"No," he sniffed.

Sarah nearly bit her tongue in surprise as he eyes flicked up to his face trying to understand his denial.

He rolled his eyes at her, obviously sensing her discontent.

"Change is impossible," he told her. "I don't know what the _genie's_ told you but that's not how magic works, or rather not how my magic works anyway. It's only giving and taking, one thing cannot become another thing."

"Then how will you grant my wish?" Cried Sarah. She could feel cold panic rising within her again and cursed her own stupidity, why had she been foolish enough to make a wish?

"Patience precious," he sighed. "First you don't want the wish and now suddenly you're a slavedriver. I will simply _take_ the scratch cards you do not want and _give_ you scratch card that you do."

Sarah felt the terror within her drop away as if he had thrown cold water over her. She bit her lip and considered that a wish working in this way made perfect sense. He would, in essence, be swapping the cards over with other cards, winning cards. The realisation made her frown.

"Where will the other cards come from?" She asked.

"From winners obviously," he drawled.

_Obviously…_

"Yes but how will you know they are winners?"

The Goblin King smirked and lifted a sculpted eyebrow in her direction.

"Does it really matter Sarah?" He drawled.

Sarah didn't need to consider his question, of course it mattered. When dealing with the Goblin King these sorts of things definitely mattered.

"Yes," She told him. She worried that he might not reply, it wasn't like she could force him to tell her all the specifics of how the wish would be granted after all, she had no doubt their contract was limited only to the wishing and the granting.

The Goblin King groaned and made an exasperated face at her.

"I have the power to reorder time Sarah," he pointed out. "Obviously such a thing is useless if I can't see where I'm reordering time to, I can see the past and future of many things."

Instinctively he raised a gloved hand to his eye and placed it gently over his fully dilated pupil.

Sarah tilted her head to one side considering this for a moment.

"Then you can see my future?" She asked.

He gave her a long suffering look and rubbed a tired hand across his face.

"No."

"But…" Sarah began, she caught his warning look. "Oh right, the 'power over me' thing."

His mouth had settled into a firm line and she knew not to push the matter any further.

"So you'll be taking the scratch cards from people who would have won and replacing them with my losing cards," she mused, changing the subject.

"Yes," He agreed.

Sarah wondered if it was odd to feel a little bit guilty, technically she was changing the lives of others, taking from them something that was rightfully theirs. She knew the inner battle she waged was of little import ultimately, the wish had been made and the price paid so it would play out no matter how much she beat herself up about it.

"Could we…" She began.

Lost she glanced over at the Goblin King who had now moved to the head of the bed. He was leaning his head back against the wall, his half lidded eyes fixed on her and his expression remote.

"Could we just take one big win, make the rest really small. It's not right to take other peoples fortune. Though I might need the win much more than they do right now, but in the end who am I to make that call? I don't want to take more than is needed to get through this safely."

The Goblin King ran his tongue along his sharp teeth and he pursed his lips as if to say something. Shaking his head he seemed to change his mind and looked away from her.

"Bring those scratchy paper things here Sarah," he commanded.

Obediently she peeled herself off of the chaise wondering what he had made of her request. He had every right to ignore it; she had carelessly started trying to add clauses to a wish which, for all intents and purposes, was already made.

She realised her hands were shaking slightly as she bent to pick up the scratch cards from the carpet. Breathing deeply she steadied one hand on the plush rug beneath her and gripped the cards tightly in the other. Pushing herself up with her palm and onto her feet she walked calmly across to the bed and sat down next to the Goblin King, laying the cards down on the space between them. Only the hammering of her heart would have betrayed her, but thankfully it remained locked in her chest, hidden from the creature before her.

Suddenly the Goblin King's armed snaked out towards her and instinctively she pulled back, losing balance on the edge of the bed. She saw his eyes open in surprise as he reached to steady her and missed despite being perfectly on target. It was the oddest thing, like oil sliding off of water, as if Sarah's body repelled him.

_No power to touch…_

She hadn't been sure quite how it would manifest, or whether she'd ever see it manifested, but now for some reason she felt an odd pang at the restriction.

Possibly because she was now lying at an odd angle on the floor, her back a bundle of jagged nerves and her feet still stuck in the air at crooked angles after the fall.

Groaning she brought her legs down and lifted herself up onto her elbows.

The Goblin King was leering down at her from the edge of the bed, shuffling the scratch cards with a lofty expression.

"I was merely trying to look at the back of your hand precious," he explained simply.

Sarah sat up and looked down at her hands questioningly. On the back of her right hand was an ugly red burn mark from Cindy's cigarette, she was surprised it didn't hurt more, she had barely noticed it.

"Oh," she said, finally noticing it.

"Oh," mimicked the Goblin King with a wry smile.

"It's nothing," she explained rubbing the back of her hand protectively. Clearing her throat awkwardly she stood again and, rising the meet the challenge in his eyes, neatly took her seat again next to him.

"I've seen nothing," he frowned. "That's not it. That is most decidedly something."

Leaning back against the wall Sarah closed her eyes and sighed exhaustedly. When she opened them again it took all of her willpower to remain still and composed, the Goblin King was leaning down towards her with a predatory look in his eyes.

"Tell me about the something Sarah and we will make a deal," he offered.

"What sort of deal?" Yawned Sarah, she hadn't realised how tired she was before. It seemed like all her energy had simply ebbed away as soon as she had settled herself comfortably.

"I will grant the wish the way you want it, one big win, just enough to get you through safely as you requested, the rest will be small gains."

Sarah sat up blinking groggily. It was more than she had hoped for; she couldn't see the downside to the bargain. Glancing at the Goblin King from the corner of her eye she couldn't see any obvious signs of trickery, but then if he were the sort to be obvious about these things she wouldn't have had to worry in the first place.

"There was a woman named Cindy here earlier," She explained flippantly. "She burned me with her cigarette to take the first pile of scratchies from me."

There was no harm in telling him, she hadn't really revealed much of the situation to him besides. She wasn't even keeping it from him with a particular purpose in mind; it was just that retelling it all was like reliving it again.

"Is that so," he murmured. "Precious is it just my imagination or are you being kept prisoner here?"

Sarah cocked her head at him and raised her eyebrow defiantly.

"It _is _nicer than an oubliette, wouldn't you say?" She quipped.

"Is it?" He asked seriously, his lips pulled in a tight scowl. "No accounting for taste I guess."

She couldn't help the laugh that slipped out then, it felt good to laugh naturally, as if the events of the day were unimportant to her. She wiped her tired eyes with the back of her hand and looked up to see him watching her again with a measured gaze.

"Why didn't you wish to escape?" He asked again forcefully. As if desperate for the truth behind the answer, the reasoning behind why she wouldn't set herself free.

"For Toby," she answered automatically. "For my family, I am here to keep them safe. They would have taken him but instead I told them to take me. If I should escape now, if I were to make that wish then what have I been working for today? All I had to do to remain free was nothing, I would never have come here, I would never have made a wish, but I could never have lived with myself either."

It took the Goblin King a moment to digest these facts. He regarded Sarah with an intensity that made her feel uncomfortable.

"So by extension, when granting your wish, I am also saving Toby this time?" He queried.

Sarah bit back a smile of surprise at his odd interpretation.

"Are you declaring yourself the antihero of the piece? She asked.

"Hardly," he snorted. "But Sarah remember this, remember that I was generous with your wish in the future. No matter what comes of your wish I hope you can remember that much at least."

Surprised Sarah opened her mouth to ask him what he meant and stopped.

He was gone.

The shining scratch cards had disappeared with him.

The bed next to her was bereft by his absence as she rolled over into his space. It felt odd to lie where he had just been, the covers still slightly warm to the touch from his presence.

She did not feel frightened or alarmed, she felt at peace. He would return to fulfil the wish; she knew that to be truth, although his odd last words had unsettled her slightly with their mystery.

Lying comfortably on the firm mattress she knew it should be impossible to sleep in such circumstances, every fibre of her being told her such a thing would be unachievable. As she felt her breathing quiet and her eyes become heavy as she let everything slip away, she had experienced so many impossibilities that sleep was now only one of them.

When she dreamed she dreamed of the Labyrinth.

She stood on the hill overlooking the goblin city in the distance.

The landscape felt dry and arid but there was a fresh fragrance in the air that made her smile.

Before her stood the Goblin King.

His clothes were more elaborate now, a dark cloak of feathers twirled in an imagined breeze and the cuffs of his boots were laced with intricate patterns embossed into the soft leather. Around his throat hung a runic looking pendant curved like the point of an arrow which draped down to rest low on his chest. It seemed like threads of gold hung amongst his star spun hair, catching the light at strange angles and reflecting it back into her eyes.

His hands were busy and she tried to focus on what it was that seemed to have claimed his attention.

As she recognised the snake in his palms he flung it towards her with a contemptuous bark of triumph.

Raising her arms to protect herself she heard the creature land at her feet and instinctively she shied away. Stepping backwards she searched desperately, trying to locate the errant serpent.

On the ground in front of her lay her locket.

Searching carefully she realised with wonder that there was no snake, she had been mistaken.

Squatting down she picked up the locket and dusted it off. Standing again she realised that the Goblin King was no longer here and she looked toward the Labyrinth wondering if she would find him in the goblin city.

Undoing the catch on the locket she idly slipped it back around her neck and felt its reassuring weight fall back into the familiar hollow of her throat.

As she took a step down the hill towards the entrance to the Labyrinth she felt the chain of the pendant at her throat tighten.

Reaching up to loosen the chain she felt it undulate under her hand and squeeze her neck so tightly spots swam in front of her eyes.

It was only then that she realised it had always been a snake.

As she fought to breathe clawing at her throat, she could hear the Goblin King's voice on the wind. "Remember that I was generous precious" He laughed and the darkness drew her in.

Groggily Sarah woke to a shaft of sunlight glancing in from the small hotel room window. She had forgotten to turn off the room light last night and it still burned on, dwarfed and overpowered now by daylight.

As she rolled on to her side sleepily she felt the cool touch of something foreign beneath her cheek, blearily she pushed it aside to remove the discomfort and fell back asleep. Her hand placed possessively over the scratch cards now lying by her bedside in the morning light.

* * *

Oh dear I hope this chapter isn't disappointing, not much has happened but I promise this is all building up to something. I have finished the outline of the story so I have the definite direction but I'm not sure how long it will take for everything to play out, perhaps I'm enjoying writing the dialogue between J/S a little too much...

**Thank you as always everyone for your support and reviews, I get very excited reading them and feel all fired up to write more!**

**Kaytori: **Well there it, albeit flimsy? I was actually planning for this conversation to take place in the next chapter but your comment prompted me to put it in sooner. I think the longer I leave it the more out of place it might have seemed after the actual events, I'm not sure if it was done smoothly - the whole chapter feels a bit rough *tugs hair*

I'm glad you enjoyed the humor! Although it's a serious enough story I like to inject it where I can, but like anyone writing comedic portions I always wonder - is this funny or is it just that I think it's funny?

I always appreciate your commentary!

**Wudelfin**:It's so interesting to see every readers interpretation of Robert, I think to me he was only the means to an end (to set up the story as it were) but I almost feel it's a pity if I don't revisit him with the ghost of Christmas past to make something of him. We haven't seen the last of him, but to be honest I'm not quite sure what to do with him yet.


	5. Chapter 5

I do not own the Labyrinth or those who dwell within.

This chapter was fuelled by FruChocs and madness

* * *

Sarah woke rudely to unwanted company.

Bruno stood over her; the sun at his back casting a hulking shadow across the bed and darkening his silhouette against the window.

Her mind lurched into a forced consciousness as she sat up with a start, her head spinning slightly from the shock of readiness. Her brain fumbled awkwardly, trying to pull together memories and meaning from her sleep addled mind.

Reflexively she backed up towards the wall and bumped her head against the headboard of the bed. Dazed her hand slid across the pile of small metallic cards which had been left beside her sleeping form.

Then she remembered.

Clumsily she gathered the scratch cards with nervous hands and held them out to him.

She didn't have time to look at what her wish had been worth, she would simply have to trust that the Goblin King had fulfilled his end of the bargain.

The cards themselves did catch her eye as Bruno's stony fist wrapped around them.

Her breath caught in her throat.

These were not the same scratch cards, which should be obvious from her dealings with the Goblin King. More problematic however was the fact that they were not the same brand of card, not the cards she had originally been brought to scratch, not in size or colour or design.

She could feel a cold sweat breaking out over her skin, would it be noticed or was it an insignificant detail?

She had noticed after all…

Bruno grunted and nodded towards her as he pocketed the cards. He looked around the room briefly and cleared his throat loudly as if he had something to say. His hooded eyes met hers for mere seconds before he suddenly turned on his heel and exited the room, the familiar sound of the lock sliding closed behind him.

Sarah felt a breath of relief rush from her lungs so quickly it made her dizzy, she sank back against the head board weakly and closed her eyes.

Her mouth felt like sandpaper. A quick inspection of the room yielded no water bottle, the Goblin King had taken it with him.

Briefly she tried to entertain herself with the thought of it taking pride of place somewhere in his throne room; however there was no drowning out the dark thoughts which had rolled in.

_What now?_

She didn't have long to wait and find out.

As she washed her face with cold water in the bathroom basin she heard the door lock beep in the adjoining room. For a moment she considered drying her face on the skirt of her dress but, considering it unladylike to lift her skirt in front of company – and possibly an invisibly hovering Goblin King, she simply rubbed it across her lower arms and decided it would do.

Exiting the bathroom via the door she came face to face with Bruno who seemed surprised to find her there, or perhaps simply surprised to find her dripping wet.

"Follow me," he told her gruffly, but not unkindly.

Despite the fact that he was Carl's henchman Sarah wanted to think well of him. He had, after all, been the sole reason there were any scratchies to begin with.

Sarah was led from the room and back down the corridor to the elevator.

As they entered the foyer of The Sloan they were greeted by the musical trickle of the wall fountain which sang happily in the quiet. The front desk was empty now, the glass arc separating it from the foyer reflecting only Sarah and Bruno as they passed out through the automatic door entrance.

Bruno led her to the same car she had been transported in the day before, opening the door for her and waiting as she glanced at him hesitantly before committing herself to the back seat.

Sinking into the plush seat cover again she wondered where she was being taken.

She tried not to think about the scratch cards, if they had not been all they should have been…

"Off to meet the warden are we?" Queried the bored voice of the Goblin King.

Sarah jumped in her seat and placed a hand over her chest as if to stop her heart from beating out of her rip cage. Turning her head she saw the Goblin King was now lounging comfortably next to her on the back seat of the car.

With alarm she glanced up at Bruno in the rear view mirror.

"Oh no precious, he can't see or hear me," he assured her.

His sharp smile cut her thoughts to pieces, each one spinning off with unanswered questions.

"What are you doing here?" She hissed, rather more forcefully than she had intended.

Bruno cleared his throat and Sarah met his eye in the mirror as he frowned at her oddly.

"He _can_ hear _you_ though Sarah," chuckled the Goblin King.

She gave him a withering look.

_Great…just great…_

The Goblin King whistled jauntily and leaned back; kicking his long legs and hooking them up onto the head rest of the front passenger seat at an odd angle. Sarah found it was quite an accomplishment that he somehow managed to make it look comfortable.

"I'm monitoring the progress of the wish," he told her finally, once he had settled himself. "For quality assurance purposes of course."

Sarah burned with quiet resentment; she had something to say about the quality of the wish. The change to the scratch cards still haunted her, would she be asked to explain that minor miracle?

He smirked at her mounting anger.

"Oh my, I do rather like it when you can't talk back precious thing." He laughed.

Sarah did her best to ignore him for the rest of the journey. She gritted her teeth through his whistling of 'Don't Fear the Reaper' and 'Sympathy for the Devil,' while she tried to settle her frayed nerves.

Eventually the car pulled up in front of a long line of expensive looking boutiques and Bruno killed the engine.

Sarah opened her mouth to abuse the Goblin King as soon as Bruno had stepped from the car, but paused when he immediately turned and opened her door, prompting her to follow. The Goblin King's self-satisfied grin as she climbed from the door only managed to rile her further.

Stomping she followed Bruno, telling herself she no longer cared about their destination. She just wanted to be as far as possible from a particular smug fey being.

Bruno stopped at the first store and glanced up at the window. Large glass panes displayed a multitude of fashionable attire, accessories and an odd assortment of bizarrely arranged bird cages. The woman in Sarah couldn't help but notice a particularly nice set of leather ankle boots in the window. They moved down to the next store, business wear, and on past another for sport apparel.

Finally they reached Bruno's destination which was a chic looking boutique with an arrangement of semi-formal gowns on display and a French looking name scrawled across the shop front in such heavy cursive that Sarah could only guess at how it read.

An antiquated little bell over the door sounded as he steered her inside and a dark haired woman with bright pink lipstick came to greet them on the shop floor.

"Abby," greeted Bruno, presumably the woman's name. "Dress this girl for lunch with the boss."

Abby gave him a questioning look and then raised an eyebrow at Sarah.

"For lunch?" She asked.

Bruno nodded.

She made a tutting sound and examined Sarah's dress and hair.

"What about her hair and makeup?"

Bruno shrugged and shook his head.

"Isn't it fine?" He asked.

Abby narrowed her eyes at him and threw up her hands.

"Men," she added, rolling her eyes at Sarah. "Of course it's not fine, looks like the poor girl hasn't even had a shower."

Bruno frowned at both women and reached into his shirt to pull out a pack of cigarettes.

"Whatever," he replied, removing one from the pack and placing it in his mouth. "Just have her ready by one."

With that he turned on his heel and left the store, pulling a lighter from his back pocket as he went.

Abby took Sarah by the hand, leading her through the store and straight into a small changing room. Highly polished wall length mirrors reflected Sarah from several angles, all of them looking worried and worn. The small cubicle was brightly lit by neon globes which hummed quietly in the eerie stillness of the shop and gave the surreal impression that the booth was disconnected from the world outside.

Abby was a small woman with a slightly pinched heart shaped face, framed by heavy locks of curling chocolate hair. She wore a tight blue skirt and white blouse, high heels which looked like they might snap her ankles at any moment and just a little bit too much mascara.

She gave Sarah an awkward smile and ushered her behind the changing curtain of the booth.

"Don't worry about names or circumstances, I don't want to get into any trouble," she told her. "Just try on the dresses I pass to you."

Sarah nodded mutely, forgetting that she couldn't see her response from behind the curtain. This person was also no friend to her; even if she was sympathetic Sarah was nothing more than a stranger to any of them, dancing to Carl's tune.

When the first dress, a brown taffeta full length gown, was passed through the fabric doorway, Sarah took it and draped it across the hook on the wall numbly.

As she slid the straps of her sundress from her shoulders her hands shook, and the hair on the back of her neck prickled. Glancing behind her she found the Goblin King reclining against the changing room mirror with a curious look on his face.

"Oh, don't mind me precious," he replied seriously.

It took a moment for Sarah's brain to connect with her hands and force them to stop mid action. Sarah was mildly grateful that her brain could still connect to anything.

She sighed; somehow being so angry at him and so frightened in general was just making her feel tired.

"Get out please?" She pleaded.

"Oh don't you just _wish_ I would?"

"Yes," she replied honestly. "No…Wait… I didn't mean that…Wait."

She held up a hand as if to stop him and then ran it across her face, covering her eyes. She swallowed a choking sob which rose up in her and fought to breathe evenly, her other hand still holding the strap of her sundress just off her shoulder.

She couldn't do this, she couldn't just play dress up and deal with him and wait to see what was going to happen to her next. She just couldn't, it wasn't possible.

Taking a shuddering breath, she wiped her now wet eyes with the back of her hand.

She was supposed to be strong and courageous, that was what she wanted to be. Now suddenly she was out of luck and everything seemed to be beyond her control, beyond her ability to fix.

Another day she might have boldly changed in front of him, she might have refused to change at all or screamed at Abby and Bruno, fighting for…

For what?

Freedom, fairness, the triumph of good over evil?

She bit back a callous laugh which nearly choked her.

Readying herself she took a deep breath and removed the hand from her eyes to face the Goblin King, and stopped, he was nowhere to be seen.

Unbidden a gurgling laugh rose in her chest and she sank down into a squatting position, hugging her knees and letting her hair fall over her face.

She stayed that way for a while, not looking at the brown taffeta dress, not doing anything.

Lunch with the boss… which was who… Carl?

What for?

Why now?

What next?

"I wonder what it's like to be able to see the future," she whispered, her face pressed against her thighs. She wasn't sure if she really wanted to know what else it had in store for her.

"Decidedly boring," came the half expected reply. The Goblin King's voice was low now, as if measured to match her own.

She did not jump this time, tilting her head slightly she could see his outline on the other side of the screen. He was holding a white dress through the curtain break delicately, like a flag of truce it hung from his once confident hands, now vulnerable in the harsh overhead light.

She did not move to take it straight away.

"If you watch for long enough you start to see the pattern of history repeating, things evolve but people and events are always predictable. The future might change every time you look at it but you learn to anticipate what's coming next, you form expectations."

"So the future you see for yourself has never surprised you?" Croaked Sarah at last, pushing hair from her tear stained face.

The Goblin King's hand tensed slightly at the question and then relaxed.

"You're going to be okay Sarah," he told her.

She knew he couldn't possibly know that, he couldn't see it and know for sure, but for some unknown reason it made her feel better just to hear him say it.

"Of course I am," she agreed, clearing her throat and finding her feet.

As she took the dress from his outstretched hand she ran her thumb across the back of his palm, resisting the urge to give it a squeeze.

It didn't take her long to change, her fingers were still awkward and clumsy but the tremor in her hands was gone.

He was waiting for her.

She practised her smile while the dress slipped into place, trying to remember what it was to feel confident.

The dress was lovely.

Layered organza over a white petticoat base, the pleated skirt hung down nearly as low as her ankles with a generous neckline and short capped sleeves. The mid-section was separated with a large white ribbon and small delicate flowers had been embroidered in a scattered pattern throughout the organza layer.

She sighed as she admired it, a fluffy feeling of contentment almost overwhelming the unease which had been plaguing her all morning.

As she found a genuine smile the curtain was ripped open behind her.

"Oh," said Abby, her eyes narrowing at the gown. "I don't remember getting that one out."

She frowned at Sarah as she shifted a small pile of dresses she had gathered from one hand to the other.

"Well, that one's fine isn't it? We don't have much time anyway."

Abby pulled her hand again, dragging her from the changing booth and back through the store. Sarah looked for the Goblin King as she went but he seemed to have disappeared, she took comfort in the fact that he never seemed to be very far away.

She was led into a grungy little back room area attached to the store with a laundry/bathroom adjacent. A single bulb hung low, casting an unflattering light on the unappealing room. In contrast to the clean shop floor the store room smelt dank and musty. Sickening yellowed wallpaper clung to the walls, strips peeling in areas accentuated by dark ominous stains. The floor was plain concrete, long blackened by the trail of dirty feet which had travelled across it.

Abby pulled Sarah into the wash room area and directed her to the large laundry sink. Pushing her head down she wrapped a towel around her shoulders to protect the dress and began the vigorous process of washing Sarah's hair beneath the faucet. Once she estimated enough had been done she produced another towel, wringing the hair dry and then wrapping it securely before she allowed her to leave the sink.

She moved methodically and with an assured manner despite her size and Sarah constantly found herself ducking to acquiesce to her attentions.

They returned to the store room again and Sarah was positioned on a low stool where Abby finished towelling off her hair and pulled out a small bag. From the bag she drew a variety of cosmetics, nodding over some and scowling at others as she lined them up along the small table in the corner of the room.

As a rule Sarah didn't care much for wearing makeup, it was a time consuming process and often led to unsatisfactory results.

She sat patiently as Abby began to blob different substances onto her skin while muttering to herself and glancing at the small silver watch on her wrist.

Since it was stuck in her head, Sarah hummed 'Sympathy for the Devil' as she followed Abby's commands to close her eyes and purse her lips when necessary.

Bruno arrived early.

Abby swore as he filled the doorway of the store room, clearing his throat and fidgeting.

"I haven't had time to do anything with her hair yet," she grumbled.

Bruno looked Sarah over with a bored expression.

"It will dry in the car," he claimed, waving for Sarah to follow.

As they were leaving Sarah yanked several tissues from a box placed on the register counter.

Abby yelled after them just as the little bell over the door chimed to ring them out.

"Wait," she cried. "Shoes, shoes!"

She ran awkwardly towards them on her excessively sized heels, almost toppling as she thrust a simple pair of black pumps topped with a small white bow into Sarah's hands.

It wasn't until she was sitting back in the car that Sarah realised she had left her first set of clothes behind in the changing room.

Finding herself in Bruno's rear view mirror she set to the task of wiping off some of the heavily applied makeup. Once the area around her eyes had been lightened she blotted the crimson lipstick onto the tissues she had retrieved. When she turned from the chore she caught sight of the Goblin King, returned to his languid pose beside her, his eyes shining with amusement.

Ignoring him, the quirk of smile playing across her own lips, she removed her socks and sneakers and slipped on the black pumps with as much poise as possible.

After another fifteen minutes or so the car made another stop and Bruno stepped out to open the door for Sarah. She followed him through the parking lot of the La Trottoria, the new heels pinching slightly as she walked. Despite everything Abby had done a close job on guessing her shoe size.

The La Trottoria was a quaint looking little Italian restaurant. Textured sandstone walls invited company and a red canvas canopy fringed the front of the store, repeated in the parasols placed in the alfresco outdoor eating area. The delicious scent of pasta and melted cheese drifted through the open doorway, mingling with the smell of sunshine and Sarah's freshly washed hair drying beneath it.

The inside of the restaurant was slightly disappointing. Moving out of the bright rays of sunshine the indoors was gloomy by comparison, stuffy and overheated. Small candles burning on the tables were unable to disguise the shameful lack of windows available to offer light.

Carl sat at the back of the store cramped into a small booth; his hands lay in his lap like limp fish, his notebook ever present on the dining table.

The boss.

Sarah strode purposefully towards him and took her seat, ready for the future that neither she nor the Goblin King could see.

Carl's face was a mystery as he observed her from across the table. After a few minutes had passed he lifted his notebook and reached beneath it, pulling out the familiar scratch cards and placing them face up towards her.

Rather than looking down at them Sarah continued to watch the man himself.

"A Fifty thousand dollar win Sarah, not bad," he told her.

He rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his beady eyes darting up to meet her own.

That amount, she knew, was all that had saved her. A penny less and she would be nothing to him.

"I'm in the business of gambling but not so used to gambling myself," he went on. "I wonder if you might be a more valuable asset than I had estimated."

A woman laden with plates appeared by Carl's shoulder, winking at Sarah she unloaded them onto the table and disappeared just as quickly.

Carl indicated that she should eat as he continued to talk.

"How does this… ability… work?" he asked.

Sarah stared at the food doubtfully, picking up a fork off the table and gripping it so tightly in her hand her knuckles were white.

"I don't know," she shrugged.

His eyes narrowed at her and his lips tightened in displeasure.

"How much does my family owe you?" Sarah sniffed. She twirled a strand of spaghetti over and over with her fork. Her stomach grumbled angrily as she watched the food circle the utensil endlessly, unable to bring it to her mouth.

"Why?" He smiled lazily. "Can you choose to win an exact amount?"

"No" She replied immediately. It wasn't really a lie; the luck had never worked that way. Then again being lucky meant that you'd end up with enough…

It wouldn't be a good idea for Carl to think she could win specific amounts on command, there needed to be an end to this.

"I just want to know so I'll understand when I've won enough to pay off my family's debt."

Unthinkingly she popped the fork load of pasta into her mouth. Chewing the glue like substance methodically she found it to be completely tasteless, she forced herself to swallow.

"I'll be sure to let you know when you've paid your dues," he assured her with a watery smile.

He patted the book on the table out of reflex.

As she began to frame an argument for that, a strange buzzing noise erupted from his pocket. Frowning Carl dipped his hand into his coat and pulled out his mobile phone, snapping it open to take the call.

As he began mumbling into the phone Sarah leaned back in her seat, staring helplessly at the plates of food in front of them. She ran her hands through her nearly dry hair and sighed.

He had said nothing about the change to the scratchies, it made sense that he hadn't noticed, he would never have seen the originals. The question was who had purchased them, Bruno? It seemed that the change was going to go unnoticed anyway, the outcome being foremost in Carl's mind she supposed anything else could be explained away.

"Oh, I'm late, you've started without me." Bemoaned the Goblin King.

Appearing next to Sarah he waved his hand ostentatiously and his oversized throne appeared next to the table, placed between Carl and Sarah. Throwing himself into it sulkily he inclined his head slightly to observe Carl and glanced back at her.

"So this is what all the fuss is about?" he yawned.

When Sarah managed to overcome the fact that she could still be surprised at being surprised by the Goblin King she noticed that Carl's phone conversation had started to escalate.

"What do you mean you can't find her?" He growled, mopping his brow. "She was with me yesterday."

The Goblin King smiled unpleasantly.

"Ah yes Cindy," he whispered to Sarah conspiratorially. "She was being a little rough on my play things."

Sarah blinked at him uncomprehendingly, a sick feeling brewed in the pit of her stomach. It became overwhelming when Carl closed his cell phone impulsively to end his call and placed a sweaty palm over her hand. It couldn't have gone any stiller had it been nailed to the table.

"Sarah I have some business to take care of," he explained. She continued to stare down at the unwanted contact, disgusted.

"Oh sure he can touch you Sarah, that's fair," complained the Goblin King.

She sat like a rabbit in the headlights between the two of them.

"I'll have Bruno take you over to the new suite; we'll arrange something else for you, a chance for you to settle those debts hmmm?" He offered.

The sweat from his palm was warming against the back of her hand, infecting her. The recently swallowed spaghetti threatened to re-emerge.

Finally he backed away, snapping his phone open again, his attention elsewhere.

Sarah leaned forward against the table and looked over at the Goblin King.

It took every fibre of willpower she had not to wish for a chance to wash her hands.

* * *

**Thank you for all your lovely reviews, they keep me writing.**

**Aleta Wolff:** As you wish!

**Kaytori: **Indeed Irene is a weak woman if she sticks around, but then Sarah's take on the situation and what's actually happening amongst the family left behind might be very different!

Ahaha I think at that point the 'allowed to touch' power would certainly have registered in the 'unwanted item' category, not so much now perhaps? The twist is that whatever is traded must be freely given, so really Sarah has the power here, but then Jareth can just as easily deny the wish if the trade is insufficient...

Indeed what will it take for Carl to be satisfied, is such a thing even possible? He definitely falls into the 'greed' wishing category.

**Wudelfin: **Indeed I have considered the Williams and they shall be revisited. I think that closure on the Williams family should be satisfactory for all, and hopefully you'll all feel a little bit more sympathetic towards Robert as more is revealed... but perhaps not. He was written to be a flawed character after all.

I liked the idea that as an unwanted child Sarah already belongs to the Goblin King - how interesting, I can just imagine him thinking that Sarah is his due to her circumstances.


	6. Chapter 6

I do not own the Labyrinth - pity really.

Thank you all for your continued support, reviews and suggestions. I had thought this chapter would take us furthur but we are not quite at the second wish yet. look forward to it next chapter!

* * *

The car ride back from the restaurant was spent in silence.

Even the Goblin King seemed oddly pensive after the brief interlude with Carl.

Thankfully Carl had not accompanied them; he had simply called for Bruno and given him instructions for Sarah's safe delivery elsewhere. She was an asset now; she needed to be looked after.

When they arrived at the new hotel Sarah followed Bruno inside automatically. Beyond her self-induced fog she had a vague impression of luxury and abundance as they made their way through a large foyer which, unlike the previous location, was crowded with well-dressed couples and families. She looked through them blankly, failing to register the people or the location, her mind spinning inward as she was directed into an unfamiliar elevator and down a corridor to stand before a new door.

When Bruno leaned in front of her to swipe the door open she did not even attempt to move away from him, barely registering his shoulder as it brushed intimately along the front of her dress.

When they stepped into the room she made her way immediately to the bathroom. Instinctively she knew exactly where it was; perhaps that was proof of excellent architecture, a familiarity with a room which was otherwise alien.

Her eyes were slightly unfocused as she began to run hot water in the sink, pumping the soap dispenser on the vanity urgently until she was lathering an over generous serving between her hands.

"Sarah," called a quiet voice behind her.

She ignored it, it was very easy to do so, this was far more important.

She thrust her hands beneath the hot water from the faucet, a disconnected portion of her brain registered pain, she ignored that too.

When her hands were free of soap she returned to the dispenser and began to push down on the nozzle again desperately, her wet hands slippery and uncooperative.

Her breathing was a shallow rasp as she rubbed her palms together, the friction massing pure white foam over her fingers as she increased the vigour of her actions until her knuckles were cracking under the pressure.

Carl's filth had infected her, she could feel his presence pushing through her veins and corrupting everything it touched. That darkness made her hate her father, it made her regret the decision she had made for her brothers sake, she even felt satisfied that Cindy had been punished; Dirty thoughts cast a shadow of self-hatred upon her and twisted her insides.

"Sarah," warned the voice again, slipping away without an anchor.

Her breath caught for a moment when her hands met the hot water again, her face had a light sheen of perspiration now and the mirror before her was completely obscured by steam.

Then the water from the faucet simply stopped.

Uncomprehendingly she stared at the tap, her eager hands lost without purpose.

Panting she looked down at her reddened hands and then up into the fogged mirror which concealed her reflection.

"Sarah," whispered the Goblin King. He was behind her, had been behind her the whole time, she realised. The odd comfort of his presence unstuck her tongue from the roof of her mouth.

"The water ran out," she muttered to him dumbly. Her hands began to shake… and hurt, oh sweet mercy how they hurt.

"No Sarah," he told her quietly. "It did not."

She could feel the prickle of tears catching at her eyelashes and blinked them away. She wasn't weak, her hands just hurt so goddamn much.

She turned towards him slowly, her hands held out in front of her, so hot they might catch fire any moment.

"They're not clean yet," she pleaded with him.

The Goblin King's eyes were unreadable in the haze of bathroom steam as he watched her, but his mouth was uncompromisingly firm.

"Precious girl, they are the cleanest pair of hands I have ever seen," he stated in a hushed tone. He bent before her, down on one knee and, bringing his face close to her stinging palms, blew gently on them.

She began to cry in earnest then at the sight of his gentle actions. Small hiccupping bursts of air escaping from her lungs in a panicked flood.

"It's just that my hands hurt," she explained to him needlessly. She felt utterly ashamed by the weakness she was displaying, she was a mess today.

He nodded in agreement, a faint smile playing over his lips.

"Then you should run them under the cold water Sarah," he suggested helpfully.

Awkwardly she turned back towards the sink and then stopped, glancing back over her shoulder at him.

"But the water…" she began helplessly.

He shrugged; reaching around her he turned the hot tap until it was in the off position, very tightly in the off position. Always he was a hairs breath from actually touching her.

"I suspect you will find that the malfunction is limited to the hot water," he scolded gently.

With quiet understanding she twisted the cold tap on and watched as cold water flowed freely from the spout. Carefully she held her palms beneath it, half relief and half discomfort from the icy chill which now attempted to soothe her throbbing hands.

She stayed like that as numbness swept up her arms, the Goblin King's steady breath buffeting her hair and securing her own breathing rhythm as she returned to herself.

After that it became difficult to move, his solid presence grounded her, undoing the devastating panic which had threatened to overwhelm her. She was surprised at herself for both the terror she had struggled with and the comfort she felt from having him there.

Even though she knew she couldn't trust him…

"What have you done to Cindy?" She asked impulsively. It was suddenly important for her to know what she had brought about.

Glancing up she could see him now reflected in the mirror as he stood behind her. Sunlight bounced off the small white tiles which climbed the walls and settled in his hair, giving him an almost angelic appearance. His face told another story.

"She won't bother you again," he guaranteed.

Sarah fought to swallow the lump in her throat and continued to talk to him through the mirror.

"Did you…" she stopped, losing the courage to finish the question she dreaded. "Hurt her?" She substituted.

His mismatched eyes hunted hers in the reflective surface, searching.

"No," he replied coldly.

She watched him, trying to ascertain the truth.

_Will you?_ She thought.

"She is well Sarah, I have simply… moved her elsewhere."

Sarah closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

"Somewhere dangerous?"

He smiled a knowing smile and turned away from the mirror.

"Compared to here where you feel irrefutably safe?" He mocked. "I'd say safety is proportional to circumstance."

She couldn't argue that.

He made his way to the ensuite door and turned back to her with a curious air.

"Why does it bother you?" he probed.

She raised her eyebrows at him as she turned off the cold water.

"It only happened because of what I told you."

"So you feel guilty?" He supplied.

Sarah paused and thought about that.

"Yes, I suppose I do." She agreed.

"Do you feel sorry for Cindy or do you feel sorry for me?" He asked dryly.

She bit back a reply and frowned. Why should she feel sorry for him?

His lips twisted in a caustic smile as he stalked from the bathroom, out into the room beyond.

She followed him puzzled, and realised, for the first time, the luxury of the room she had been given.

It was a high quality apartment.

Delicate stencilled wallpaper in a grey and white whorl pattern danced across the walls. A heavy plush, deep chocolate carpet cushioned her feet, even the pinching heels felt softened by its luxuriousness. The room itself was an open plan bedroom, dining and kitchen structure, divided neatly by countertops and well-arranged furniture. A king size bed sat snugly against the wall, thousand thread count sheets showered by small spot lights inset into wall pockets by the bedside.

Two small love seats and an armchair were arranged around a small glass table which was somewhere between and dining table and a coffee table without fully conforming to either. A customary fruit basket was sitting on display amongst stylishly folded serviettes.

Marbled countertops divided off the kitchenette with polished black glass splashbacks and tasteful stainless steel appliances at every turn.

Every surface was unblemished and clean and, it appeared, certain privileges had been supplied which had formerly been denied. Sarah eyed the sheets with satisfaction, assured that towels and toiletries were probably also now available if the soap in the bathroom was anything to go by.

"Oh lovely," spat the Goblin King. "Will you be wishing to escape _now_ Sarah?"

His face was tight with fury as he surveyed the apartment; angrily kicking one of Sarah's sneakers across the room.

She looked over to where it had landed; Bruno must have brought them in from the car.

She glanced up at him, unnerved by his mercurial nature.

"Are you tired of playing the antihero now Goblin King?" She asked quietly, almost under her breath.

His eyes blazed as he turned on her, pushing her back a little with the force of his presence.

"I never accepted that title," he growled dangerously.

He laughed then, a forced hollow echo which made the hair on the back of her neck rise as he crowded her.

"So you accept splendour from this fellow but I am besmirched because I have punished an immoral woman."

"I never said I had accepted it!" Yelled Sarah.

She hadn't wanted to lose her temper but how could he think that, how could be believe she approved of Carl simply because he'd provided a fancy room?

"Then why do you look so pleased with this grandeur?" He sneered. "Why do your eyes sparkle greedily as you perceive his gifts?"

Sarah's fists clenched unconsciously at her sides, and smarted. The pain, which might otherwise have further incensed her, acted to settle her immediately. She took deep breaths as she examined the wildness of the Goblin King's demeanour and tried to find reason for it.

Had she looked overly pleased, had she seemed swayed by a small display of wealth? It took only the memory of Carl's sweaty palm on the back of her hand to knock such ludicrous thoughts from their perch.

"If I am looking pleased," She bit out. "It is because I now have a toothbrush to brush my teeth with and a towel so that I can finally have a goddamn shower and wash this muck off my face."

She folded her arms across her chest in a closed manner.

"So if you'd be so good as to get the hell out I'd really like to get on with that before my next life threatening task is presented to me."

Without waiting for a reply she whirled away from him and went back into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her soundly.

It did not make her feel better.

As she pulled toiletries from the cupboard and ignored the glory of further marbled perfection throughout the bathroom she worried.

So far the Goblin King had been her only support through this ordeal, and while they might not be friends, and she might not trust him, she could not deny that she needed him.

Unwilling to face him again immediately she idled beneath the luke warm shower, delaying the inevitable. It seemed she was unable to handle any degree of temperature against her hands; even the pathetic warmth she had decided on was making her palms sing with pain.

Mentally she chewed on the Goblin King's words.

His accusation had hurt her. She had thought they almost had something of a rapport between them; he had been kind to her and she had thought…

What had she thought?

Perhaps she had almost returned to her girlhood fantasies in which she had romanticised the Goblin King?

Unbeknownst to him the death of many of her relationships had come about by his hand.

No matter if it was a memory or a lie, a beautiful man, no a king, had once sung to her of love. He had offered himself to her, offered her a kingdom and a dream.

No sticky fumblings in the backseat of a car could measure up to that, no half-hearted flattery, no lame pick-up line, not even the white picket fence and the 2.5 kids.

Truth be told the Goblin King had ruined her for other men, ruined her with an intense lie. She had been chasing that lie ever since.

Now she knew that desperation had forced him to offer her everything to prevent the reversal of a wish.

_Talk about broken dreams…_

She sighed loudly and steeled herself for the confrontation to come as she turned off the water.

None of that was his fault; her whimsical romance fantasy was her problem.

So what was his problem then, why exactly should she feel sorry for him?

Stepping out of the shower and drying herself off she looked down forlornly at the dress she had just discarded. It was lovely, no question, but she really didn't want to put it back on again after showering. The problem was she had nothing else to change into.

Wrapping the towel around herself she padded across the bathroom floor and stopped before the wall cupboard, peeking inside. As she had hoped there were white hotel bathrobes hanging up inside.

She briefly debated the joys of being clean against the safety of being clothed in something that wasn't a bathrobe. Being clean won out, but it was a close match.

Slipping the robe on Sarah finished towelling her hair dry and brushed her teeth. Momentarily she leaned forward until her head was flat against the mirror and closed her eyes, resting there briefly to gather strength.

He was right.

Her pity for Cindy was probably a self-satisfying whim, guilt over an outcome she felt responsible for.

Sarah's eyes snapped open as she held onto that train of thought.

She felt guilt.

What of the Goblin King then?

He who had punished, he who had taken the winnings of others to grant her wish, wouldn't he also feel guilt?

_Do you feel sorry for Cindy or do you feel sorry for me?_

Could it really be that simple?

Thoughtfully Sarah pulled herself away from the mirror and straightened the robe. Building her courage she marched to the ensuite door, opening it and returning to the bedroom division of the apartment.

The Goblin King was sprawled across one of the two loveseats, his feet kicked over the side comfortably and his chin resting on the palm of his hand. His eyes were closed but he opened them as she approached, her footsteps steadily losing confidence as she advanced.

She had almost expected he might have left.

He examined her, mismatched eyes lingering on her bathrobe just long enough to make her flush uncomfortably. Although his expression was remote now at least he seemed to have calmed down.

"So who is he," he asked, making her jump as she drew near.

Sarah glanced in his direction and raised an eyebrow at him.

"Who is who?"

The Goblin King scowled.

"This warden character, Carl, _who_ is he exactly" he demanded.

She paused at his question, wondering how best to answer. She was happy that although the topic had not necessarily changed, the interrogation was now less hostile. Settling herself into the arm chair directly across from the Goblin King she carefully arranged her robe for propriety.

"I don't really know to be honest," she reflected. "He's a kingpin I guess."

The Goblin King's eyebrows raced upwards in surprise.

"A king?"

"No, no," Sarah corrected, shaking her head. "A _kingpin_, it means a crime boss, basically he's a criminal but he also has people and resources behind him too."

Sarah motioned to the room to convey her point and he nodded in understanding.

"So you are his prisoner until you have paid off your family debt," he suggested.

Sarah shrugged.

"That's not quite right but it's not exactly wrong. He has taken me as collateral for the money we owe; he originally intended to take Toby, but I intervened."

The Goblin King frowned, his upswept brows knitting in confusion.

"But Toby doesn't have this luck power, how would he have earned back the funds?" he asked, finally realising that the scenario didn't make sense.

Sarah paled. She had tried not to think about that each time she remembered how Carl had looked at Toby, the hungry light in his eyes, him touching her hand. An involuntary shudder of revulsion ran up her spine.

"He didn't take me with him because he believed in the luck," she explained. "That was just…"

Sarah swallowed the word _luck_. That couldn't be right, the luck was gone now.

"Just a coincidence," she finished.

She swallowed deeply, her mouth felt dry but she needed to finish this before she lost the stomach for it.

"I think I was going to be sold off," she admitted. "Somewhere where I would be made available for clients to…service them…"

The Goblin King gave her a blank look.

Sarah sighed.

"Sexually," she grated.

She watched as his eyes widened with understanding and his face hardened.

"Then Toby…" he snarled.

Sarah turned away from him, her lips tightly together.

It was then that she learned she had never seen the Goblin King angry.

Whatever that pale whisper of discontent had been earlier it certainly wasn't anger, because now he was angry.

The room was almost undone by it.

Sarah cowered beneath the cold fury which positively rolled off of him. She pulled the robe tighter around her, every hair on her body prickling from his intensity. Her fingers throbbed with pain as she clasped them tightly together, unable to look him in the eye.

She was frightened of what she might see there.

The sound of a commotion at the door was almost a relief.

Shivering she glanced up in time to see Bruno clicking the door closed behind him.

His instincts were sharp, his eyes narrowed in her direction and he stopped in his tracks as if searching for the cause of the hostility he sensed.

He did not back down from a threat he could not perceive, but neither did he approach.

Frowning at her he pulled a small paper bag from his pocket and placed it on the countertop which separated the kitchenette area. Patting it as if to secure himself he flicked his head towards it meaningfully when he caught her eye and she nodded to indicate her understanding.

He exited quickly, never looking back.

The oppression of the room abated slightly and when Sarah turned to the Goblin King again she found him with his back to her, arms crossed, looking out the window.

Giving him space she got to her feet and padded quietly across the room to investigate the bag.

Tipping it upwards she allowed for the contents to spill out onto the marbled countertop. A long slip of paper and a pen tumbled out; the numbered sheet was all too familiar.

A lottery selection slip, she realised, as she picked up the pen and clicked the button experimentally to extend the nib.

Carl wanted her to win the lottery.

* * *

_Kaytori_ - Have you been reading my mind (or my outline)? Indeed it is the lottery! Unfortunately for Sarah things won't be quite as neat and tidy as you've suggested.

Cindy - gone but not forgotten, she'll be seen again.

Thankyou, the dance between Jareth and Sarah can be quite delicate at times. To be honest sometimes the conversations between them get away from me and take me in a whole different directions from what I've originally plotted out, they're practically writing themselves and just using me as a medium.

_FyraBerkaan _- Thanks! I'm trying to do them justice in the dark setting, I'm finding Sarah surprisingly easy to write from this perspective. No humour this chapter but I've got a little something for next time to bring the mood up again.


	7. Chapter 7

I do not own the Labyrinth of its residents but I do visit from time to time.

* * *

Sarah climbed into the bed and pulled the bed sheets up under her chin. The familiar motion made her feel like she was at home safe.

It might be nice if she could go to sleep and wake to find all of this was an odd dream, the outcome of too much television or too many cheese sandwiches before bed time.

As she held the blankets in place she stared morosely at the lottery slip on the bedside table and the moody Goblin King at the window, not particularly focused on either.

She sighed loudly and realised, to her eternal shame, that she was trying to regain his attention. Like a selfish child she hoped to have his concentration fixed on her now that she knew what her next task was to be. Every part of him was still set fixedly outside of that window pane, lost in a world she could not see over his shoulder due to the angle of the setting sun.

His fury had quelled from its original ire but the air hung anxiously waiting for his next mood.

The fact that he had reacted so vehemently and been so outraged was something that she should respect. It made him much more upstanding than Carl or any of his cronies despite how she might once have cast him as the villain. Yet here she was, completely self-obsessed and placing her own concerns at the forefront, eager to rekindle the one sided bargain she had originally tried to escape.

She was humiliated to realise just how self-serving the whole arrangement had been from the start, why had he come if not to help her, why had it taken this moment for her to accept there was good in him?

Lowering the coverlet, Sarah drew up her knees under the blanket and hugged them tightly. His silhouette against the dying light from the window was ephemeral.

Hues of pink and orange were caught up in his hair and burned like flames. His dark figure cast a shadow which crept across the floor and seemed to suck in light with a ferocious intensity, as if pulling everything bright into itself to conquer and coalesce.

Despite herself she smiled as she watched him, even his anger was a beautiful thing.

"Goblin King," She called to him. Both hoping and wondering if he would turn towards her.

She saw him tense slightly at the sound of her voice and then relax, turning his face to one side, not so much as to look at her but enough to indicate she had his attention.

"What can you tell me of my friends in the Labyrinth?"

It felt natural to finally ask.

She wanted to talk about something from his world, something away from the misery of the situation. The Labyrinth was a bright place in her memories; surely he must be missing it? The dangers of the Labyrinth seemed honest and straightforward by comparison; here darkness seemed to creep out of others ill intentions to swallow you whole.

Finally he turned from the window to look at her, his face was worn.

"Friends?"

"Yes," Said Sarah. "Hoggle, Ludo and Sir Didymus."

The vacant stare he returned made her feel uncomfortable.

"I thought perhaps you might know where they were or what they were doing. They told me I could call on them but… well… they didn't come in the end."

The Goblin King simply shook his head, his levelled gaze pinning her to the bed.

"I was worried they might be in trouble… or… if my belief wasn't strong enough…"

He snorted rudely.

"Belief has never been a problem for you Sarah," He told her. "If anything you have a little too much. If you didn't believe I couldn't have come to grant your wish. No matter how idle the words 'I wish' might have seemed to you they had purpose, I've told you before you _wanted _it, and a part of you both believed and knew it could be granted. I'm proof of that fact."

Sarah nodded. It was something of a relief to know, for some years she had wondered if the ebbing of her belief had robbed her of her friends. She was thankful that although the belief was not the innocent whimsy it once had been it still remained, maturing with her.

"The being before you is not all seeing and all knowing," he admitted. "There are things even I cannot see." The remark seemed to cut him deeply. A self-depreciative smirk quirked his lips but it wasn't fully committed to, he looked tired.

"Nobodies perfect," shrugged Sarah, smiling encouragingly.

The whisper of a smile melted across the Goblin King's face.

"Do you miss the Labyrinth?" She asked.

The Goblin King tapped his gloved fingers against his lips thoughtfully and approached the bed. Stopping at the foot of it he sat and leaned backwards, bracing his weight with his arms behind him.

Sarah was reminded of his first reappearance only days ago, it felt like a lifetime had passed since then.

"Why do you think so?" He asked.

Sarah shrugged.

"I think it must be hard to be away from it, to be here. The Labyrinth is a brighter place than this, more innocent in nature. Things were not always what they seemed, but they weren't vicious and cold like this world can be."

"Weren't they?" He smirked.

She smiled.

"Not in my memory."

The Goblin King nodded and looked up towards the window again.

"Nothing is constant in the Labyrinth, he explained. "It can be a dark place just as easily as your own world. Perhaps it has changed a vast deal from what you remember; maybe this is also why you cannot contact your friends."

"You said perhaps," suggested Sarah. "You don't know if it has changed?"

He cocked his head in her direction and pursed his lips.

"My nature is as inconstant as the Labyrinth, so the changes are rarely obvious to me. It will have changed since you ran, I cannot say how much."

Sarah thought about that. Was this the reason she hadn't been able to contact her friends? It was hard to imagine the Labyrinth transformed, in all these years it had remained unchanging in her memory, how could she expect it to be more or less than she remembered.

"It must be difficult to rule there." She said.

At the suggestion the Goblin King lifted himself from the bed and began to pace, stopping at the bedside table and lifting the lottery slip between two fingers to casually inspect it. He raised an eyebrow at her.

Sarah wet her lips nervously.

"What I mean is it must be difficult to spend time here with me when you should be ruling over your kingdom."

She wasn't sure what she was looking for. A declaration of devotion, a snide remark? Did she hope to chase him away from this dark place or make him reassure her that he would stay?

Smirking he navigated the bed until he was on the opposite side, he lay down next to her with his hand propped under his chin. A knowing smile taunted her.

"Time flows differently there, I can reorder time; anything that passes here is inconsequential to my realm."

_Nicely dodged, what was I expecting?_

Sarah ground her teeth together unconsciously as her brain crumbled at their current position in the bed. Her whole body stilled as he reached out towards her, her hands tightening against her knees. Her back was aching from maintaining the closed position for so long but she worried about moving and jostling her flimsy bathrobe, the coverlet might be all that was helping her maintain her dignity.

The lottery slip brushed gently against her cheek and she flushed.

"You can touch me indirectly," she pointed out.

"Obviously," he drawled, but seemed surprised.

_He's testing the boundaries of the powers._

Sarah blinked and tried to shut away the voice, why must part of her continue to doubt him?

She felt the light touch of the ticket tingle across the tips of her eyelashes.

"What is this paper Sarah?" He finally asked.

Up until that point she had been fighting to maintain her breathing with him so close, now her mouth went dry.

She wanted to look away from him but his gaze had locked her in place, she opened her mouth and closed it again, her brain felt numb.

"So this is the source of our next wish?" He guessed dramatically.

Sarah tightened her fingers on the coverlet before she remembered that they were still tender.

"Scraps of paper seem to be oddly important to your people," he sneered. "Does the note on the back denote your new task?"

She sucked in a breath as he twisted the slip before her; she had not seen the messy scrawl before.

_'Division one win – Carl'_

Her heart rocketed around in her chest.

_Now that's familiar._

A panicked gurgling noise escaped her mouth at the revelation.

The Goblin King leaned forward, his eyes narrowed.

"It seems this paper will not do, your bond here will not be undone so easily," he suggested. "Why don't you just wish for what you really want?"

"And what is that," she rasped, almost choking on her tongue.

"Carl's death," he replied icily.

The shock of the suggestion came in waves, starting out subtly and gradually washing over her until she was forced to sit up and take notice.

"Death?" She echoed.

An end to things, an end to a bad person. No more pretending to be lucky, no more wishes, no more danger for her family.

She forced a weak smile, knowing she could never make that wish.

"I can't…" She started.

"You won't!" He flared. "Of course you _can_, it's as easy as saying I wish tra la la. You simply _won't _do it. Are you too pig headed or are you too much of a bleeding heart?"

Sarah took a calming breath and closed her eyes for a moment. This was clarity, she hadn't wanted to commit to the new wish forming in her mind, but it was infinitely preferred to this alternative.

"I can't ask you to do that," she told him. "I won't." She sounded stronger this time.

"I _will not_ make you a killer."

The Goblin King gave an exasperated sigh.

"And if I'm already a killer?"

"_I_ will not make you a killer." She reiterated.

He studied her face with intensity. Reaching out he motioned as if to brush a tendril of hair from her face, his gloved fingers slipping away uselessly, unable to touch.

The very air around them seemed to still in the moment, Sarah realised she was holding her breath and let it go in an unfulfilled rush.

The Goblin King's eyes burned into hers as he reluctantly withdrew his hand and his sharp teeth flashed in an ironic smile.

"You're being generous Sarah," he remarked.

"I learned from the best," she retorted.

Her fingers twitched, longing to complete the unsatisfied contact, she wanted to touch him. She wanted it too much; biting her lip she focused on the slip of paper in his hand and the grim reality before them.

"When I first discovered my power…. Wait no…. When my father first discovered my power he was ecstatic. He wasn't really a greedy man; he just thought it made me special. He liked to boast about how lucky I was, and whenever anyone would challenge him he'd have me prove it.

Eventually he became so proud he would wager against friends, betting that I would win in some specific event or that luck would shine on me in some unexpected way. Winning became important to him, like a drug he couldn't get enough of.

At some point, I'm not exactly sure when, it wasn't enough for it to just be me. He started to begrudge my luck, why wasn't he lucky? We had the same genes, he was my father, wasn't he entitled to some of the luck?

After that he set about destroying himself. I don't know if he thought he could force the power out if he exposed himself enough, either way he bet big and threw himself into any competition he could find. It wasn't long before he was close to bankrupt.

He came back to me then, telling me how important I was, apologising for all he'd put me through. That was close to my nineteenth birthday. Shortly after our reconciliation I won a cruise, but I never went, I sold the ticket off and gave him the money, thinking that if he could just get himself out of trouble all might be well.

For a while it seemed like he came back to himself and I was happy. We were a family again; Toby needed his father after all.

He wasn't better though, it was like a sickness and he had just learned to hide it from us. To keep up appearances for the family I used my powers to bail him out continuously. A year later I was using everything I had won in the sweepstakes to try and settle his debts, I could no longer trust him to use the money to settle them himself. I watched him become a weaker and weaker man every day, a shadow of the father I had once known."

Sarah snatched the lottery slip from the Goblin King's idle hand. His face wore its usual mask of indifference.

"Every few months he would bring me a slip like this. _Time to win big my lucky Sarah,_ he would tell me. _Time to settle those debts and set up your little brother for life. Don't you want to see Irene happy, don't you want to take care of our family?"_

Sarah's lips twisted in an anguished smile.

"And I did, so I tried. I tried and tried and tried, but I could never win it big. No matter how many times I picked the numbers I could never do better than the last two division prize pools. I watched as he doubted me, like I was doing it on purpose. I was his lucky Sarah, a girl with an extraordinary gift, a girl who would sacrifice anything for her family, and still he was disappointed."

She could feel her voice become thick with emotion, her throat was tight with unshed tears.

"This power is a curse Goblin King, I wish you had never given it to me."

She turned away from him so he wouldn't see how tears stung at her eyes. Breath after shuddering breath she willed herself to be calm. She hadn't meant to get upset with him; she just wanted him to understand what the power had done to her, what it had done to her family.

"Give, give, give," muttered the Goblin King. "You're very hung up on that aren't you?"

Slowly she turned towards him, her face stony at his perceived mocking.

"What did you say?" She grated.

"I understand that it's very convenient to blame me for every woe you've ever encountered," he grated. "But why _exactly_ is this _my_ fault?"

"Because you gave me the powers!" She accused.

"Says who?"

Sarah paused, grasping for the memory.

"It was in the book!" She crowed triumphantly, finding her reasoning.

The Goblin King frowned.

Eyes slightly unfocused he reached up into the air above the bed, and with a flourish produced a little red book from nothing. She could see from the gold embossed font on the front it was a copy of the Labyrinth. It was the stain across the back from a mishandled slice of pizza that made it _her_ copy.

"That's mine!" She cried in surprise.

The Goblin King raised a sculpted brow at her and snapped the book open.

"Finders takers." He mumbled through a mouth full of leather. Gritting his glove between his teeth he removed it with practiced grace, wetting the now bare fore finger on his lips before beginning to turn the pages.

"I think you'll find it's finders keepers," she grumbled.

Playfully he waved the book in front of her.

"I think you'll find I'm right."

As the book danced through the air its pages ruffled and a slip of paper fluttered down to land on the bed between them. Sarah mistook it for the lottery slip until it had already been snatched up by his eager hands.

"Oh Sarah what is this?" He laughed. Half crushing the page in his hysterical enthusiasm.

Sarah stared at the back of the lined sheet of paper completely lost. A blank page, or maybe not? It looked like it had been pulled from an exercise book.

Understanding followed swiftly and she coloured with the recognition.

"It's nothing," she muttered, embarrassed. "A school girls whim."

The jarring sound of his chuckle put her hackles up.

"Oh sweet Sarah, is this supposed to be me?"

He spun the paper to face her then and she thought she'd die of shame. She'd never been much of an artist, and here he was, captured in stick figure splendour, crown and all.

At the time she'd thought she needed to try and capture his memory on paper, during math to be exact, she had planned to treasure it in the one place she thought no one would ever see it. Now the person she wanted to hide it from the most held it in his hand.

She sighed grumpily.

"It's not like I was doodling your name surrounded by love hearts in my notebook," she shot at him nastily.

His smile only increased.

"My name?" He murmured. "No indeed."

Thoughtfully he folded the crude art piece in half and placed it in his jacket.

"You're not going to keep it are you?" She railed.

"Finders takers," he winked.

Sarah growled in irritation.

Distracting herself she puffed up the pillows behind her, taking particular effort to ignore the continued gaze of the Goblin King. She stretched her aching limbs out beneath the sheets and slipped the cover up under her chin as she lay back to find a comfortable position.

When she looked up again he was leaning down over her, unsettling all the nerves she had just smoothed down.

"What?" She grumbled. She still felt humiliated over the picture.

"Your wish Sarah," he persisted.

Long blunt spikes oh his hair hung down from the sides of his face. They almost touched her but gravity disobeyed itself, reflecting them off of her mere millimetres from contact. She wondered what it would feel like to have them brush against her skin.

She wondered if she still _was_ an infatuated school girl.

"I have to win division one in the lottery," she remembered.

"That's not exactly a wish," he replied dryly.

She seemed to be having trouble framing the wish, her eyes kept darting to his lips hovering above her, they moved sensuously when he spoke.

She wet her lips instinctively.

"What will happen if I w… _ask_ to win it, how will it work?"

The Goblin King smiled crookedly.

"One thing cannot become another thing," he reminded her, holding the ticket up and running it across her cheek.

"You cannot get something from nothing, these wishes work on giving and taking. I would need to take the winners numbers from him and give them to you."

"Him or her," Sarah corrected.

"Him," he assured.

Sarah blinked with surprise; he could so easily see who the winner would be.

"If you can predict the winner can't you simply predict the numbers?" She asked.

"Those are his numbers; the only way to have them is to take them from him. Wishes have a cost, something you'll pay, granting them has a cost also."

"A cost you have to pay?" She suggested.

He shrugged.

"Sometimes, last time the cost was your scratch cards."

"So this time it could be my lottery slip numbers?" Sarah smiled, and then felt it falter.

For a moment she had forgotten her luck was gone, that was why they were striking this bargain after all. For a brief window she had thought she could find some small way to recompense the man whose fortune she was going to steal. She had thought she could give him her lesser winnings, but her luck was gone, she would win nothing, she could give him nothing.

"Or your empty slip," suggested the Goblin King.

Maybe that was kinder, at least then he wouldn't have wasted money on the entry ticket.

She wondered if it had to be division one, was Carl merely pushing her to see where her limits lay as her father once had? Taking such a huge prize from someone else was a horrible thing to do, even if they'd never know. Worse yet she wouldn't be the one depriving them of it, she would be making the Goblin King grant the wish.

"You can't want to do this," whispered Sarah. "I'd feel terrible to ask it of you."

"Then don't ask it, wish it," he frowned. "It's not like I'm getting nothing from the bargain."

"Something broken, something unwanted?" She laughed painfully. "I could use this money to clear the whole debt, to see myself free of this arrangement and secure my families safety. You will get a pittance, how is that fair?"

A shadow flittered across his face.

"You're always speaking of fairness Sarah, who are you to decide? Haven't you already been noble enough by keeping me from murder? Do you really believe you can find the perfect wish solution to make everyone happy with no cost at all?"

Sarah hung her head dejectedly, that was exactly what she hoped for.

"Precious, your morals are commendable, if a little idealistic," he chided. "I told you that your wishes were need based, you need this."

She still didn't like it. She felt like she was standing on a precipice, it was a slippery slope down if she started on this path. She had watched her father eaten up by greed and undone. If she condoned this, even for the right reasons, if she made someone else pay this cost could she live with herself?

"If I take the numbers from him what will happen?" She whispered.

"He will forget them."

Sarah tensed in alarm.

"He'll forget the numbers; will he be mathematically disabled, unable to ever use them again?"

The Goblin King sighed.

"No precious, he'll simply forget the reason why he chose those numbers; their importance will be taken from him so that he'll have no reason to pick them."

Sarah nodded, only slightly more convinced. She couldn't really think of a better option. Perhaps one day in the future she could find a way to pay this man back, or maybe he would consider this as charity since her families safety was at stake? She rather doubted he'd care, but it did make her feel a little better.

She made up her mind.

"I wish that I would win division one in the lottery." She muttered hastily, the words burning her lips.

"Tonight," she quickly amended; catching an approving smile from the Goblin King.

She felt like the words had been on her lips for years, finally dusted off and brought to light.

The Goblin King leaned in so close she thought her heart would stop.

"What will you pay Sarah?" He asked.

The breath from his question caressed her lips, making her part them in anticipation.

"What do you want Goblin King?" She asked playfully.

His reaction was unexpected.

He pulled back sharply, his features freezing in place, eyes shuttered.

"Not a ring," he growled. "I won't accept it."

Sarah's eyes widened in surprised. Puzzled she looked down at the sore red hands holding the coverlet.

"I don't have a ring," she told him.

His head snapped up and he leaned towards her again, glaring at her fingers on the blanket.

"There was definitely a ring," he muttered.

Sarah frowned, what was he talking about? She hadn't worn a ring in years. Not since…

"Ah!" She cried, grinning. "The one I had when I entered the Labyrinth, I don't have it anymore."

She was floored by his memory, what a small detail to notice during their brief encounters.

"Careless Sarah, to have lost it, a ring is a bond you know."

She hadn't lost it though; she had traded it to the Wiseman for information. Not that it had come to anything, but still, it was somewhere within the Labyrinth. She'd sooner die than be humiliated twice today however, she wasn't about to tell him she'd traded it to a old man with a talking bird for a hat and received nothing useful in return.

Instead she shrugged his comment off, or tried to. He did not want to be bound to her, she had expected as much, but still it hurt.

"When I was young I dreamed I was in love with you," she admitted finally. "That's why I drew the picture, it was a fantasy of mine. Now that I'm older I see that you're nothing like what I had imagined, that love was all in my head and it never existed. It's safe to say that's a broken dream now, will you accept it as payment?"

She hoped it would hurt him just a little. Not that the love of a child would mean much to him really. She simply wanted him to think he meant nothing to her, to make him believe she was just as uninterested in a bond between them as he was. It wasn't a lie that the childhood fantasy of love had all but burned out, but it might be a lie to say that something new wasn't starting to replace it. She was being childish, but she didn't want to lose to him.

"Sentiment again," he drawled. "You'll have to offer me a token of the broken affection to close the bargain."

It pissed her off.

He was so cold about it, so business like. A few times now he had been so close to being gentle with her, treating her like she was something precious. Next thing she knew he was backing away, or yelling, or accusing, or simply closing himself off.

As she stared at his infuriatingly beautiful face she felt anger lick down her veins. She wanted to force him out, to make him look at her and_ feel_ something.

Her hands moved on their own; she knew exactly what she had really been wishing for all night.

Briefly she registered his surprise as her fingers wrapped around the back of his neck, then she was kissing him and the world fell away.

It was like sunlight lit her up from the inside. She pulled him down onto her and felt her skin sing with electricity at every point of contact. Her head thrummed with energy as she deepened the kiss hungrily, her fingers stroking the hair at his nape, soft as spider silk beneath them. Her heart felt so full it might burst; her body so tense she might snap at any moment.

She couldn't taste him though, nor could she smell him. She hadn't given him back that power yet so the sensation remained locked away. Also he wasn't kissing her back, because he couldn't. It was a sobering realisation; she was kissing someone she hadn't trusted enough to allow them power over her. How could she call that love?

After that it was easy to break the kiss. Loosening her hands she leaned back into the pillow and pushed lightly against his chest, breaking even that contact to be completely free of him.

When she finally overcame her shame long enough to meet his eye she found he gaze was molten. His face was so intense her heart quelled in her chest and she placed her hand over it as if to protect it from him. His breathing was ragged and his eyes were slightly unfocused as he sat up and turned away from her.

"That'll about do it," he croaked, and disappeared from the suite.

When Sarah came back to herself she realised that the lottery slip had gone with him.

Lying back in bed she ran her fingers across her lips and sighed. She was an idiot, why had she done that? If she was starting to feel something… no because she was starting to feel something she needed to make a decision. All or nothing, she either trusted him completely or she didn't, this wasn't going to work if she couldn't resolve that.

Her mind, caught in a spiral of doubt and emotion, she eventually succumbed to an exhausted sleep.

She was in the ballroom with him.

Everything was just as she remembered it. The weight of his hand on her waist was reassuring and she smiled up at him, it felt comfortable to be in his arms again.

Although her tousled hair arrangement felt heavy she forced herself to ignore it as she danced with the Goblin King. Twirling endlessly, her dress sparkled under the candlelight and lit up like flames in his eyes.

He leaned down to whisper something in her ear but it was snatched away by strains of discordant music.

Turning her head to see the musicians, the direction of the dance suddenly changed and she was pulled away from the source.

Couples around them parted to make way as they continued their endless circuit. Sarah could feel the heels of her shoes were starting to wear thin but the arms around her held her tightly.

Suddenly a hand snatched at her dress and she turned to face the perpetrator, but just as they came into view the direction of the dance changed again and she felt herself being led away.

The hand holding hers tightened and she looked up at the Goblin King confused.

She hadn't realised her was wearing a mask.

He leaned down again to whisper in her ear and she felt a chill creep through her.

"Sarah you've been letting me lead this whole time… don't you think that's rather unlike you?" He asked.

As he began to laugh she watched as the ballroom shattered around them; they fell.

* * *

Thank you lurkers and reviewers, it's up later than I anticipated but it's finally done. I made it a long one to apologise for the delay, enjoy!

**Kaytori**: As I said you picked it, the lottery slip had history, now you know. Thanks as always for your glowing reviews, they keep me motivated. Some of the stuff we talked about in PM should raise it's ugly head next chapter, look forward to it ;D

**Aleta Wolff:** Poor tired Jareth, he keeps getting stuck with all the dirty work and they both have to reap the emotional guilt!

**Jay Madeleine Griff:** I hope this update is soon enough for you, I'm trying to keep to a chapter a week where possible, thanks for reading.

**LingeringSentiments:** I had in fact been thinking the same thing, doesn't this guy have a kingdom to run? Hope you enjoyed my patch solution... I still envisage a goblin uprising and scattered pieces of fieries upon his return - but that's his problem I guess. I think your review got me over the line on this chapter, so thanks, remembering that people are waiting to find out what happens next is what keeps me coming back!


	8. Chapter 8

I do not own the Labyrinth or it's occupants, but if they ever pop up on ebay I'll be sure to bid

* * *

Sarah woke in a cold sweat.

It wasn't the nightmare slipping away which had woken her; it was the remembrance of her own words.

_Tonight_

She had wished to win the lottery tonight, well after the time the lottery was drawn. Before the slip of winning numbers had even been returned to Carl to be recognised as an official entry; she had wished an impossible wish.

He had accepted it too.

She had thought she was so clever, adding on a time frame at the last minute so he could not delay the win. The murky memory of the altered scratch cards returned to her and she felt sick in her stomach. She had never discussed his duplicity in that trickery, she had let the danger be forgotten due to the harmless outcome.

_You idiot_

How thoughtless of her, how little consideration she had actually given to the wish. Blindsided by the cost it would have on others she had forgotten the cost it might have on her, to the point of foolishness.

Now if it came true… could it come true?

Biting her lip Sarah realised the Goblin King had the ability to reorder time, it could definitely be granted as she had wished it.

How could she explain this impossible win to Carl?

Hands shaking, she felt any illusion of sleep drop away entirely.

"Goblin King," she whispered.

She was breathing heavily, as if air was hard to come by.

The room around her was dark and foreboding, but worst of all it was empty.

"Goblin King," she croaked again, feeling her voice catch in her throat. Her fingers were trembling so wildly now that she placed her palms against the mattress in an attempt to still them.

"Sarah," Came his sigh from across the room. "What is it now?"

Her heart somersaulted a little at his presence. More than anything she had feared for a moment that he might not appear. For some reason the thought had frightened her so badly she had nearly forgotten the danger of Carl and the impossible win.

"The wish I made - please let me take it back."

Her voice was wobbly, she wondered if she was about to cry. There had been entirely too much of that lately and she straightened herself in the bed, trying to find the iron core of strength she knew hid within her somewhere.

Angrily the Goblin King marched out of the shadows towards her.

"Sarah you know I can't just…"

He stopped suddenly, as if transfixed for a moment and then turned away from her quickly, his face a complex tapestry.

"You can't?" She shrilled. "No you don't understand. I made a mistake. It's all wrong… and the scratch cards… I wasn't thinking… Please…"

Appealing to him she saw his expression was in shadow, he had brought a gloved hand up to cover his face and it seemed unsteady.

"Please…" He murmured quietly into his hand.

She felt fire kindle in her breast; did he plan to mock the sincerity of her appeal?

"Please cover yourself," he finished.

It was not a request, but a command.

Looking down she felt the blood drain from her face. Obviously she had slept fitfully, her bathrobe had fallen open to expose a slender shoulder, the curve of one breast, and it hung loosely by the tie showing her bare stomach and navel. With difficulty she moved her quaking fingers to conceal herself again, hugging the robe closed around her tightly to hide her nakedness. The memory of the forced kiss resurfaced again, an unwelcome addition to her shame, her mouth felt so dry she tried repeatedly to swallow and find her voice.

Suddenly she wasn't sure if she was more afraid of the consequences of the wish or facing the Goblin King; she teetered on a sharp edge and wondered which way she would fall.

"Sorry," She rasped awkwardly into the silence. The stillness of the room devoured her words and made no reply.

Waiting, she felt her heart beating erratically as if throwing itself against her rib cage in an effort to destroy itself and escape the uncomfortable atmosphere.

"Sorry," she whispered again, and knew she meant it for more than what had just happened.

His voice was a model of control when he finally replied.

"You can't take back the wish without taking back the payment," he reminded her coolly. "Just like with Toby."

Sarah's heart quailed in her chest. To take back a broken dream was a small price to pay, but to kiss him again? No… she couldn't do it; especially not now.

_It's just a kiss…_

But it wasn't, not with him. Nothing was 'just anything' with him and she knew that now. Her feelings were too entangled to consider this in a business-like manner anymore; maybe they had been from the start.

She nodded her understanding.

"I didn't think it through properly," she explained to him. "I made a thoughtless and impossible wish, but of course it wasn't impossible for you because you can reorder time."

"I can," he agreed.

Sarah nodded again wistfully, wondering how she would explain this to Carl.

"But I didn't," claimed the Goblin King, the impression of a raised eyebrow hinted at within the shadows across his face.

For a moment Sarah wasn't sure she had heard him right.

"What?" She asked.

"I haven't reordered time," he explained, "the consequences of doing that in your realm are… messy."

Sarah blinked, hardly understanding what he was saying.

"But I wished to win the lottery _tonight_."

The Goblin King stepped forwards and now she could see the bemused expression he wore in the darkness of the apartment.

"No, did you?" He asked. "I don't think that's exactly how you said it."

Sarah took a series of short shallow breaths and wet her lips nervously.

"No I did, I was making the wish and I added that on at the end."

He shrugged.

"The end of a wish - how is such a thing decided?" He drawled. "The start is 'I wish' but there is no phrase to close a wish. There was a pause, just for a moment between the wish and the addition. That's enough for me to make an executive decision to include or exclude what could very well be the start of a new sentence, or a second wish for that matter."

He smiled dangerously.

"I will not reorder time here, not for you, not for anyone. I might be compelled by a wish but as I've said before I can choose to grant or not grant as I like, perhaps I took some liberties with this one, but there was a definite pause, it was more than enough.

His eyes flashed and he leaned towards her on the bed, as if the discomfort from earlier was all but forgotten.

"Aren't you too unguarded Sarah?" He asked.

Nervously she clutched the ends of her robe tightly together.

_Sarah you've been letting me lead this whole time…_

"Wouldn't a better wish have been to ask for the winning numbers to the next draw? Not to mention which draw, which day, which lottery, in which country?"

He spread his arms wide and then placed them firmly on the wall behind her, one on either side of her as if to imprison her in an impersonal embrace.

"So very careless precious, I thought you'd try harder after the scratch cards," he whispered into her ear and she shivered.

Looking up into his expressionless eyes she felt even more exposed than she had earlier with the bathrobe malfunction.

"So when will the win happen?" She asked guardedly. Proud that her voice remained strong as she posed the question.

A sharp smile cut through his lips as a slip of paper appeared in his hand, much like the one he had taken with him before she had slept.

Automatically she reached for it, brushing her fingertips along his gloved palm as she took it from him.

His smile tightened for a moment and then fell away all together. She thought she saw a flicker of intensity in his eyes just before he disappeared into the night, leaving her all alone in the dark.

Holding the lottery selection slip in her hand she stared at it blankly.

So he had known about the scratch cards, she had wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt on that. She had thought perhaps he might not have realised, might have been too unfamiliar with the gambling system itself. Or maybe she had suspected and not wanted it confirmed? Had she really forgotten to ask him about it or had she been too afraid to shatter the fantasy she was building around him?

He was right; she had been careless with her wishes.

She made herself focus on the lottery selection slip in her hand.

It was for tomorrow.

Sarah glanced at the backlit digital clock on the bed stand,_ tonight_, she corrected herself, taking note of the earliness of the hour.

There would be no more sleep now, that much she knew.

Easing herself back down in the bed, she raised the ticket above her and into the inky blackness of the room.

This was not a solution.

What had she been playing at? Even the Goblin King had been well aware of it, this wish resolved nothing. He was right to put her on guard, to expect her to put more thought into her wishes. She wouldn't wish for Carl's death, that wasn't the answer either, but her situation was only going to continue indefinitely at this rate. The trap with succeeding with her 'luck' was that Carl was no fool, who would let go of a golden goose once they had caught one?

_Do you really believe you can find the perfect wish solution to make everyone happy with no cost at all?_

Perhaps he was right, she was being naïve. The wishing itself should be easy, but the mechanism behind the wishes made it difficult, it wasn't even the price that must be paid in return for the wish, it was the way in which the wishes must be granted.

_Giving and taking…_

If she wished away her families debt then where did it go, to another unfortunate family? Taken from them and given to someone else? Or perhaps the debt would be cleared with Carl, but there were others like him out there, perhaps it would simply be transferred to another broker.

The Goblin King asked for payment, but the ultimate giving and taking of the wish granting was his to make. Did she trust him enough to put their lives in his hands, trust that their situation might not be worsened by the outcome?

Ultimately, this was the decision she needed to make.

That or to contemplate the perfect wish, if there was such a thing.

Idly she lolled about in the bed, tired and irritated and somewhat eager for the dawn.

When the first rays of sunlight spilled across the window sill of the apartment she was still without resolution.

Listlessly she ran her hands across the smooth surface of the expensive sheet set, the lottery slip still scrunched tightly in her hand. It might not be a solution to her problem but it could be used to give her enough time to formulate one.

Making a decision she sat up straight and swung herself from the bed, consciously rearranging her robe for propriety.

She had always been a person of action, throwing herself at a problem in search of a solution, she needed that now. Indecisiveness was going to make her crazy, if it came to making a rash decision then she would roll the dice, but for now she could at least occupy herself and search for an answer at the same time.

She hammered on the front door of her provided apartment loudly.

A few moments later a new man opened the door looking harassed; if he had been left outside to guard her room he'd certainly been sleeping while doing so.

"What princess?" He growled.

Sarah hesitated for a moment, she trusted Bruno to give the lottery slip to Carl, this man… not so much.

Biting her lip she held it out to him.

"This is for Carl," she told him. "And I want clothes brought up for me right away."

It was impossible to convey just how much she wanted clothes but she tried to sound firm. He wanted a princess, she'd give him one.

The new man grinned horridly, his teeth irrevocably stained from cigarettes or coffee, Sarah couldn't tell which.

He snatched the ticket from her hand and leered at her, running his other hand across his bald scalp. Bushy caterpillar eyebrows knotted together on his forehead as the disgusting teeth re-emerged like cankerous sores in his mouth.

"Sees a'what I can do," he told her, and without ceremony he shut the door square in her face.

Pacing nervously she tried to come up with a plan of attack. Could she learn more about Carl's operation in hope of finding a weakness? She could, but could she do it without seeming too eager?

A total change in her demeanour would be noticed, or would it? She reasoned she hadn't actually spent much time with Carl so far, his impression of her couldn't be very firm; she could use that to her advantage.

She didn't have to wait long for her new clothes.

The shady man with the revolting teeth opened the door without knocking, interrupting her reverie, and dropped a bundle of clothes onto the edge of her bed. Shooting her a suggestive look and wiggling his eyebrows together he made his way slowly back towards the door, glancing back over his shoulder one last time as if hoping to catch her changing.

He left a disappointed man, Sarah watched him intently with her arms crossed firmly in front of her. After he had finally vacated the room she pulled one of the plush armchairs across from the seating area and jammed it under the doorhandle as best she could.

Privacy was hard to come by when everyone but you had the key to your room. Not to mention Goblin Kings popping in and out at will. Sarah flushed as she realised that he had already seen a fair selection of the package anyway, turning to the clothes to try and replace that thought with something less embarrassing.

There was a fair selection before her, including lingerie, all new with tags. Glancing around her surreptitiously she quickly removed her robe and changed into a comfortable pair of jeans and a loose t-shirt. There were no socks or shoes in the pile but she eventually located the sneaker that the Goblin King had kicked in his anger and squeezed her bare feet into the pair; it was nice to wear at least one thing that was familiar.

She didn't really want to know where the clothes had come from, but she was grateful for them.

Stepping into the bathroom she washed her face vigorously with cold water, her fingers still unable to cope with any form of heat, and brushed her teeth.

Placing both hands either side of the bathroom sink she looked into the vanity mirror and took a deep breath.

_Stop procrastinating_

Steeling herself she left the bathroom.

As she skirted the apartment making her way to the front door again, something on the bed caught her eye. Turning she frowned as she spied a small pair of leather gloves laid out on the coverlet, they had certainly not been in the pile of clothes she had investigated only moments before. Approaching them cautiously she glanced around, looking for a hidden Goblin King, but he was nowhere to be found.

The supple leather was like soft butter in her hands, it smelt clean and earthy. Indulgently she slipped her fingers inside one of the gloves and felt a cool ripple of relief slip through her pulsing fingers, still tender from the burns she had inflicted on them. Smiling, she eagerly pulled the other glove on, admiring the perfect fit.

"Thank you Goblin King," she whispered to the quiet room, a grateful smile gracing her lips.

She wore them like a shield against Carl's thoughtless body contact; it made her feel confident enough to face him.

As she started tugging the armchair out from where she had wedged it under the door handle there was a sudden knocking sound.

Hurrying she yanked the chair aside and opened the door.

Bruno stood before her with his usual blank expression; she did note that he leaned forward slightly to glance into the room behind her, possibly relieved that the tension he had perceived from within yesterday had all but dissipated.

"Boss says if you're up you should accompany him for breakfast." He told her.

"I'd be delighted," Sarah feigned a smile.

A small frown creased Bruno's brow and she realised she'd laid it on a little thick already. Of course she didn't like Carl, she didn't need to pretend that she did, that would be too ridiculous.

"Lead me to my gracious host," she added dryly, sure to let a long suffering look replace the smile.

Satisfied he nodded and she followed him down the hallway and into the elevator.

Bruno led her to a rather pleasant balcony bar where Carl sat, largely obscured by an open newspaper, which was a feat for a man of his size.

As she sat down he glanced up, directing a watery smile at her around the paper, and then continued to ignore her.

A short voluptuous woman with a tray came over to Sarah and asked her if she was ready to order.

Sarah, who hadn't seen a menu yet, simply gave the woman a blank look.

"Uh coffee, and… bacon and eggs or something?" She suggested.

"Sure hun," smiled the woman and wandered off without writing anything down.

Carl folded the newspaper and placed it on the corner of the table, Sarah noticed he already had a cup of coffee set before him.

"So your appetite has returned," he simpered, a smug look on his face.

Sarah frowned, not looking up at him.

"Just making the best of a bad thing," she argued.

He sipped his coffee, his hooded eyes reading her over the cup.

"I've sent someone off to put your numbers in for tonight's lottery." He told her.

Sarah bobbed her head non-committedly.

"If I win division one it should be more than enough to pay you back what my father owes you," she suggested.

He smirked.

"So you _can_ choose the amount you will win?"

"No," she answered immediately, hoping to rid him of that notion once and for all. "I was simply saying_ if_ I'm lucky enough,_ if_ I win division one tonight it should be enough."

Carl continued to grin at her, his eyes deeply hooded and unreadable.

"So if I win tonight you can let me and my family go," she pressed.

"Don't worry Sarah I'm taking good care of your family," he assured her, or threatened her, she wasn't sure which.

She tried to stay calm, ignoring the lump that had risen in her throat.

"I'll have some of my men take you out today," he told her. "It's a reward for your good behaviour so far. Tonight you'll dine with me and we can watch the results come in together, and then we can decide what to do with you."

Sarah forced a smile and swallowed the bile in the back of her throat.

"Decide whether I get to go home or not," she proposed.

Carl's eyes remained fixed on her, as dull and lifeless as those she had seen on her father when he was lost to some new bet or scheme. One corner of his mouth quirked slightly, as if drawn into laughter but unable to express the emotion, as if joy had been forever locked away.

She knew then, that no matter what the outcome of tonight's draw was, this man would never let her go home. She had known it, deep down she had never expected otherwise, and yet inside of her some flicker of hope guttered out as she stared across the table at him.

Her false smile was a reflection of his as the waitress placed an unpalatable breakfast in front of her.

* * *

Merry (post) Christmas (if it's a holiday you celebrate) and early Happy New Year (in the Gregorian calendar).

Thank you followers, favouriters, reviewers and lurkers, I hope you're enjoying the journey.

I have to admit that Sarah slipping about the wishing for a win 'tonight' was really my mistake, it was quite late when I posted the last chapter and I must not have been thinking straight, but Sarah and I are both human and prone to mistakes - hopefully I managed to iron that one out quite nicely. Admittedly it's not the only flaw/plot hole of the piece so far, but if you haven't noticed yet - lucky! If you're turning a blind eye to them... thanks!

I recently discovered I had no end game for Carl in my outline, pretty serious oversight! Amended now, but seriously... my bad. On that note I'm curious, what are people hoping for? Can anyone guess Sarah's last wish? :)

The next chapter is the story climax, the end of the bread crumb trail as it were, the big reveal! It is also the chapter I have been the most excited to write since I first conceived of the idea for this fanfiction, on that note I'm going to start writing it straight away so I suspect the update will be prompt.

**Wudelfin: **Thanks for the 'golden goose' line, I'm sure you've noticed I've snuck it in to this chapter as it was too good to leave out - you saw right through the abominable Carl. I think that kiss has knocked them both off kelter for the time being, as to Irene and Toby's take on issues at home - it remains to be seen, I'll make sure we have closure on that one.

**Honoria Granger: **Yes I'm beginning to think that Sarah is the one who can be rather cruel, poor Jareth - all work and no play... watch this space.

**arynwy: **Jareth... sidestepping? Surely you're mistaken, he's a beacon of honesty! Well in truth he hasn't told a single lie during this fanfiction - lies of omission however... that's another matter ;D Glad you picked up on my 'what's my name' nudge, we all know where this is going after all.

**TheRealEatsShootsAndLeaves:** Glad you liked it, I thought it suited him rather nicely.

**Nanenna:** I hope this chapter at least partially explained your question, it's the mechanism of the wish which gives it consequences so there are downfalls to directly trying to target the debt. I specifically included your suggestion so you could see why Sarah hadn't taken this path, but she's also been a little bit flippant with her wishes so far to be honest!

**Aleta Wolff:** Oh dear it's gone a bit cold again, not much Jareth this chapter. Next chapter should be quite fiery though!

**Kaytori:** Hmmm a breakdown where Jareth will be unable to comfort her... yes future seer you're not too far from the mark but I'll surprise you yet! Indirect touching - definitely, he can stab her, drive a car into her, push a book shelf on top of her, let's hope he won't though, please be nice Jareth. Yes there is definitely more to the bond, and the powers she was 'given'.

**Moia Starchild:** Thanks for your review, trying to keep it fresh and not trip myself up as I make the rules!

**LingeringSentiments:** Poor Jareth, the Sarah punches just keep coming! He's going to need therapy before this is all over, perhaps she'll kiss it all better before the story is done? Yes Sarah's dreams, foreshadowing or paranoia?


	9. Chapter 9

I do not have power over the Labyrinth, Jareth or much else to be honest - not even this story sometimes.

* * *

My promise for story climax is unrealised, sorry all, it's still a chapter away.

* * *

Sarah spent the morning feeling harassed.

She stood in the doorway of a Prada boutique chain flanked on either side by burly men in suits.

Bruno was to her left and the man with the horrible teeth was to her right; Bruno called him 'Russo'.

This was the sixth boutique they'd visited and Sarah was now thoroughly sick of it.

Bruno sniffed.

"Right miss, choose out what you like."

They'd been playing this game all morning.

Sarah had argued vehemently in the first store that she wouldn't accept anything from Carl or his ilk. In vain largely; when she had refused to choose Russo had appeared behind her, breathing suggestions with an acrid wheeze over her shoulder.

Bruno had already made it painfully clear that they would be leaving with purchases or they would not be leaving.

At first Sarah had sought to outwait him on that number, knowing that if Carl expected her presence for dinner his patience would eventually waver.

She had thought without Russo.

The man was slime; he revolted her on a level only slightly lower than that of Carl. It was odd that she now imagined the days of confinement with Bruno as her only brooding guardian with a fond reminiscence.

He got under her skin. He was persistently nearby, invading her personal space or attempting to touch her 'accidentally'. He was almost as bad as a pushy shop assistant, pressing items of clothing against her body when she was unguarded, which unfortunately seemed to be quite often despite her best efforts. He was continuously praising her physique and insinuating that certain items would be complimentary to her body shape, urging her to try things on and prove his tastes.

Always, always with his rotten toothed grin, the stink of his fetid breath rising bile in the back of her throat. Eventually she took items into the changing rooms simply to be free of him for a moment.

Even then he lingered closer than was necessary, too close for comfort.

So they had shopped. How easily her will had crumbled before him, anything to move the day forward. Even the moments spent in the car in between boutiques he was at least as far away as the front seat, it was a blessed relief, albeit brief.

Bruno had promised this would be the last store.

As she entered the glamorous interior with a sigh, she knew that this might be a dream to any other girl, but how was she to enjoy something that would only drive her further into Carl's possession?

Bruno had stopped in the doorway and seemed to be discussing something with Russo in a low hushed voice. Sarah's heart sank when he stalked from the store leaving her alone with Russo.

Russo frowned deeply and glanced up at her without moving forward; to her relief he merely waved her on, indicating she should venture further into the store. It seemed he suddenly had no intention of dogging her every step.

_Did Bruno have words with him?_

She was thankful, whatever the cause. So far her plan to discover more about Carl's empire was not going well, it didn't help that she couldn't stand the company of any of its associates.

Idling around a table of tastefully laid out blouses she could not find the strength to even pretend to be interested.

Noticing her vapid inattention a prim looking, well dressed store clerk felt the need to intercede and rescue her.

"Looking for anything in particular?" She asked. Her voice was warm, but it was a cold gaze that raked over the loose t-shirt, jeans and sneakers Sarah was sporting.

"Uh, no I.." Sarah broke off. Her mind felt fuzzy and unfocused, she had not slept much after all.

"Oh is this your beau?" Grinned the woman, her face lighting up.

Sarah felt sick.

"No," She answered.

She turned, expecting to see Russo creeping up behind her.

The Goblin King stood next to her, thoroughly embroiled in a silk chemise worn by a plastic mannequin posed artfully over the table.

"I mean yes," Coughed Sarah. He mind fumbled with the idea that the clerk could actually see him. This was the only person other than herself to actually concede his presence. In all the time she had known him, past and present, this was a first.

"What a handsome couple you make," Gushed the clerk, smoothing her dark hair back flirtatiously. "Will you ask him to pick you out something; I can see he has rare tastes."

_If you only knew_

A smile flirted with the Goblin King's mouth; he could hardly help but eavesdrop on them when he was less than a metre away, he attempted to hide it behind a gloved hand.

Making a disdainful sound in his throat he turned from them both to admire the next table over, flicking a spangled scarf back and forth between his limber fingers.

"I hope I didn't upset him," murmured the clerk. "He seems to be in rather a fey mood."

Sarah bit down on her tongue in shock before reminding herself that there was no way this woman could actually know.

She coughed awkwardly to cover her surprise.

"Oh," she muttered, her throat burning. "You have absolutely no idea."

As the clerk moved away nervously, Sarah watched the Goblin King.

His star kissed locks.

The dare upon his soft lips; the remembrance of which made her flush.

His cold piercing eyes, won't to cut her if he stared sharply enough.

What was he to her exactly?

Saviour, confidant, friend… lover? Or perhaps an enemy? Somehow the last seemed very unlikely.

What did she want him to be?

She had feelings for him, definitely. She wanted him to feel something back; she wanted him to care about her, to love her maybe.

There could be no such connection the way things were, Sarah was playing things too safely, too close to the chest. It was true that she had opened up to him but the power struggle between them remained, he had no power over her, she would not let him reclaim that power. Love was vulnerability and that frightened Sarah, She knew the shadow of him was not solely to blame for her past failed attempts at romance.

She thought about what stood between them and wondered at the mystery of it, but most of all she wondered what the Goblin King made of it all.

_What are you doing here?_ She bit the words back.

"It's good to see you," she smiled.

Indolently he glanced over his shoulder; there was no genuine smile, just his usual smirk. It was enough, he was here and that had to be enough.

"Will you pick out something for me?" She asked playfully.

His wintery eyes turned on her and she could see her jest had somehow soured his mood.

_Fey indeed_

She wondered if all of his kind were as mercurial in their moods.

"Are you enjoying your sojourn?" He sneered. "Such opulence, how _lucky _you are Sarah."

It sobered her.

"No, I am not." She replied tartly, trying her best not to be offended. "The only luck I've had during this unending nightmare is your continued presence."

It took him back; he blinked hard at the reply obviously having expected their usual banter. Suddenly, nervous at her own declaration, she rewarded him.

"Must be your positive outlook," she sniped. "It keeps me absolutely buoyant."

It didn't have enough sting to hide the honesty of the former statement. The Goblin King regarded her seriously.

"A gift chosen by me but bought by another man," he scoffed lightly. "I think I am not the only one with rare tastes."

Sarah rolled her eyes. It was true enough, she liked him after all.

"These things… It's not my choice," she explained. "I don't want any of this."

He regarded her warily.

"Then you're a fool Sarah," he told her.

She sighed bitterly.

"So be it."

He watched her steadily then, like she was a puzzle he couldn't quite get the better of.

"Have I told you that time repeats itself Sarah?" He asked.

"So you've said," she nodded.

"Then you should understand that everything that happens, even this, has already occurred in the past."

Sarah frowned, her brow furrowing at such an idea.

"So you're saying we have no free will?" She asked. "All events will play out in a continuous and monotonous loop?"

He pursed his lips warily.

"Even so," he agreed. "I have seen the beginning, and having lived it once, know the ending."

_You're going to be okay Sarah_

She remembered his words to her then; could it be he really did know the ending of this tale, that all would be well?

No. She might be okay, but that did not mean everybody else would be, that did not mean that everything would end well.

"If I do not like the pattern time is spinning I will do all I can to break it," she argued seriously. "I will make my own ending."

The Goblin King gave her a bemused look.

"Just like humans to think they can alter time itself to suit them."

Sarah shrugged.

"You do," she accused.

He inclined his head, watching her from beneath his lashes, but gave no reply.

"You cannot tell me you have never seen fate change; circumstances unravel due to a different course of action being taken," she reproached.

"I can simply tell you that a different course of action is _never_ taken," he shrugged.

Sarah opened her mouth to retort and snapped it shut as Russo's hand slapped down on her shoulder in a familiar manner.

"Who're you talking to princess?" He asked.

The Goblin King's eyes narrowed at the contact and then flitted away. His lips were pulled into a smug grimace.

Would that she could answer that question easily, who was he to her exactly?

"Was there someone 'ere?" Russo continued.

Glancing back over her shoulder she could see his blank expression.

What a fine game, she realised. Russo couldn't see him.

Her own lips crushed themselves together in a tight line; the Goblin King was taxing her patience.

"Just talking to myself," she told them both. "Like a crazy person."

Russo snorted.

"Did'ye find summing you like?"

Sarah stepped away from the clasp of his sweaty palm. She wondered mildly if she'd need to shed a skin to be free of the stain of Carl and his men if she ever were to escape them.

"Nothing that matches my gloves," she told him. She held her gloved hands before her, wriggling her fingers and feeling the cool pulse of the leather around them.

"Does it matter?" He rasped, a puff of his hellish breath assailing her.

Sarah caught the Goblin King's eye and held it.

"Oh, it matters." She told him.

Bruno's absence bought her the right to leave the boutique without a purchase. It also made her uneasy beyond words, alone with Russo in the car, or so it seemed to him at least. The Goblin King travelled with them, humming to himself and sneaking the odd glance in her direction.

Russo fiddled with the radio as they drove until music blared from the speakers, loud and rough.

_Sympathy for the Devil_

Sarah raised an eyebrow at the Goblin King but he merely closed his eyes and leaned back into the soft velvet of the car seat.

By the time they arrived at the spa he had disappeared again.

Sarah was hurried inside for a buffet lunch of which she partook very little. She was aware that over the past few days she had eaten almost nothing, but she could not seem to find the stomach for it.

After lunch she was petted and prodded by differing groups who seemed to be planning the reformation of her body, it made her extremely uneasy.

She was wrapped in clay and palm leaves for her first session and left to sweat for twenty minutes or so in a room built to emulate a beach theme. The floor was covered in sand and a small pond had been set up in one corner with a tape deck nearby playing the dull crack of ocean waves on a continuous loop. It was all very tacky but done innocently enough on the whole, someone had even painted realistic looking seagulls onto the rooms sky-blue walls to try and set the mood.

Sarah smiled at the silliness of it.

After that she was washed down and scrubbed thoroughly before they moved her on to another room.

The new room was painted in bright colours, flowers blossoming in every corner that could be reached with a brush. The floor was littered with crushed petals and the strong scent of incense hung in the air, the smoke of it giving the room a slightly ethereal feel.

Before her lay three massage beds, the shelves on the wall stocked with oils and fresh towels. She eyed the arrangement with mistrust.

A large, overbearing woman with fists like a mountain entered the room and grinned widely at her.

"Take off your robe and we'll get started."

Sarah returned the smile awkwardly.

"I'm not sure I'm comfortable with this." She told her.

"Lass you've been made naked, dirtied and cleaned, what's a little oil going to hurt?"

_What indeed._

Cautiously Sarah removed her robe and lay face down on the table, her head finding comfort in the soft pillow laid out to support her.

The woman pulled a fresh towel from the shelf and covered Sarah's lower body with it, making her feel a little more secure, but only a little.

"I'm Glenda," she boomed cheerily. "You just relax and I'll work those kinks out for you."

Sarah was surprised by Glenda's skill; despite the fearful size of her hands she had a delicate touch. Unwittingly her body relaxed beneath Glenda's attention and she smiled sleepily, thinking of how adept one must be to overcome size and impart comfort in such a trade.

It was her last thought before she fell asleep.

Waking she blinked drowsily, feeling ashamed that she had nodded off and left herself exposed on the table so carelessly.

Turning her head so looked for a clock on the wall and instead found she was once again staring into the cool pools of the Goblin King's eyes.

She swore, loudly.

Pressing herself firmly against the table she glared at him.

He lay on his side languorously on the massage bed next to hers. Hooded eyes twinkled slightly, his head propped up by his elbow, the better to study her.

"I'd say the exposure of this side of your body is harmless compared to past transgressions," he commented.

Sarah pushed herself flat against the table as she glared at him.

"You seem to be indisposed quite often Sarah," he smirked.

"You could always try knocking," she growled.

"Where's the drama in that?"

Sarah rolled her eyes; she wanted to get up, but not enough to expose herself.

"Really though precious, a massage with a complete stranger," he chided. "Is everyone allowed to touch you as long as they aren't me? That's hardly fair."

She could see from the sudden dawning comprehension after he had spoken the words that he had realised the irony of his sentence.

"I'm sure you know my response for that," she taunted.

"I'm sure I do," he added, chagrined.

Pensively she stared straight ahead, not her first awkward situation with the Goblin King; she doubted she'd be so lucky as to find it was her last.

"You said that actions never change to alter outcomes," she remembered, their earlier conversation returning to her. "How can that be?"

The Goblin King waved his hand apathetically as he if had never expected more from the events that transpired around him.

"You're lying," accused Sarah.

He smiled grimly at her, reproachfully.

"What do you know about the fey Sarah?" He asked, changing the subject.

Sarah struggled with the question; she knew a lot of things, some of them conflicting. She'd done a lot of reading on the subject manner after leaving the Labyrinth, but not recently.

"I know that not everything written about them by humans is true," she answered cagily.

"Such as?" He pressed.

"Such as that eating fey food will imprison you in their realm. I ate a bite of peach and I was able to return home." With a frown she remembered the rotten core of the peach and the worm within. "It was gross."

He chuckled throatily as if sharing the memory.

"Quite so, but some things written are true." He told her. "Such as the honesty of the fey."

Sarah took a sharp breath.

_They tell no lies_

She glanced at the Goblin King moodily.

"But you telling me that could still be a lie, a lie about telling the truth."

He shrugged.

"And it doesn't mean you have to answer things truthfully, just that you can't lie outright, saying nothing of lies of omission."

He smiled at her, his sharpened teeth glinting through the haze of incense.

"I never said otherwise," he declared.

Sarah thought on what he'd said. It didn't really change anything, but it did make her reflect on other conversations she'd had with him. If he truly were always honest… Well he hadn't admitted anything which could make her feel completely reassured in her position, and he'd never admitted to feeling anything in particular for her.

She felt slightly defeated.

_But what nobody knew was that the Goblin King was in love with the girl and had given her Certain Powers…_

The sentence floated into her mind unbidden.

He hadn't admitted to giving her Certain Powers, but he hadn't directly denied it either.

Breaking her reverie she turned to look for him but found he was gone again.

Cursing she pushed herself from the massage bed and quickly recovered her robe, slipping back inside of it and feeling the relief of being concealed again.

As she exited the room one of the attendants caught her elbow and redirected her to the parlour, which apparently was her final destination.

_Thank goodness for small mercies_, she thought, she was almost looking forward to returning to the solitude of her prison.

The parlour was decorated in pastel pinks and blues, white fluffy clouds had been painted across the walls and fake turf ran where carpet might have been laid. The room was much larger than the previous two and the expanse offered comfort compared to the constricted feeling she'd experienced during her last sessions.

This was the room for hair and makeup, baskets of products stood by ready for use. Hair swatches lay open on the large vanities across the back wall, each with a comfy leather chair set up before them. Scissors and hairdryers littered empty benches as well as large brushes, tweezers and hair straighteners.

It took some time for Sarah to talk her attendant down. No heavy cutting, no colour, just a trim. She was pushed into having her hair styled though, and promised it would only take as long as the make-up component.

She sat in the comfy leather chair and allowed herself to be indulged, her grip on patience was waning but this was the last stop for the day so she gritted her teeth and obliged them.

Once the make-up was finished she found she was surprised, it was very tasteful. Her eyes were enhanced to look larger, her mouth pouted more prettily, but overall it was almost as if she were not wearing make-up at all.

The hairdresser was wrong about matching the beauty attendants schedule and apologised profusely, it seemed she had not expected Sarah's hair to be quite as full and lustrous and struggled with curling the individual sections. There was nothing for it but to wait, she could hardly leave with half of it complete.

When it was finished she smiled at the appealing wave of her heavy locks, almost forgetting that all of the finery was bestowed by Carl.

It would be dangerous to forget that.

The two attendants gushed over her and one of them ran to fetch her purchases from Russo. Sarah was ushered into a changing cubicle and a dress and a pair of shoes was pushed at her to change into.

Within the low lit, curtained room she could smell the musky scent of incense still clinging to her. With difficulty she changed, trying not to brush the green silky fabric of her bodice against her made-up face as she pulled it over her head.

Her best self stood in the mirror, looking back at her.

Green silk clung to her curves gently, folding neatly and settling around her knees in a flourish. The green of her dress caught the same colour in her eyes and enhanced it, further encouraged by the smoky eye shadow and mascara darkened lashes which framed them. Her cheeks softened by a rosy blush, her mouth lustrous and inviting. Gentle curls of dark hair curved around her face and dropped elegantly against her naked flesh, a stark contrast on her pale, bare arms. Her long, toned legs eased prettily into open toed emerald heels which added compliment to her dress.

She stared at her own reflection as if it were that of a stranger. It was a very surreal feeling.

Stepping out of the change room she felt like a woman transformed. It unsettled her a little, as if she had just lost something of herself and might never get it back.

Her attendants prattled at her, flattering her enthusiastically as she returned to the car.

"Pity you don't have any jewellery to go with it," one sighed dreamily.

Instinctively Sarah reached for the hollow of her throat and the white gold locket which was so familiar to her, but of course it was no longer there.

Russo gave her a low whistle when he saw her, exposing his worst asset once again to do so.

The odd feeling of unease did not leave her during the car ride.

She keenly felt the absence of the Goblin King, unsure of whether or not she wanted him to observe this change.

She dearly wished she were dressed up only to attend the celebration of her 21st birthday. It had only been days before and she had nearly forgotten all about it.

She did not wish it aloud, of course.

Russo drove them to a new hotel called The Manse. It could not have been more different to The Sloan, in which her journey had started, if it had tried.

The sky was darkening and small garden lights lit the path to the hotel entrance like a plane run way. Horizon pools stretched out either side of them, dropping away to give the illusion of an infinite plane of water, light sparkling within the darkened depths. Silvered slate glittered below her heels, their rhythmic clack rebounding and echoing out into the twilight.

As the glass doors of the entryway slid open soft music beckoned from within. Elaborate wall gardens climbed intricately under soft lighting. The reception desk glowed under pillars of granite, sculpted columns rising up either side of it and a tiled fresco of the God Loki enamoured across the desk base.

Russo led her to an awaiting glass elevator. Sarah stared at it, her mind awhirl.

Glass, like Cinderella's glass slipper; would that she could leave it behind and run from the ball. Splintered memories of her clutching a chair and beating her way free of a ball within a dream rose unbidden in her thoughts.

They travelled together to the top floor of the building.

The roof garden restaurant nestled there was a thing of beauty.

Strings of fairy lights hovered like stars above their heads, waiting for the heavens to darken enough that their sister selves would appear to join them. Candles fluttered like butterflies in the soft breeze, the darkened curl of ferns dancing in the shadows of its pull.

And there was Carl and the Goblin King.

As at odds with one another as this hotel was with The Sloan. One a thing of unrivalled beauty, gold streaks in his hair reflecting the candlelight as he lazed languidly against the oversized throne placed so unexpectedly by the table. The other hulked like a sinister foretelling, his eyes hollowed and greedy, his fake smile twisted by the shadows.

She found her seat across from Carl, next to the Goblin King, and settled herself into it.

She wasn't sure if Carl had booked out the whole restaurant or whether it was simply coincidence, they were all alone.

"You look lovely Sarah," smirked Carl.

The Goblin King merely looked; he took her in as if he were burning every strand of her hair, every eyelash and freckle into his memory permanently.

Then his face was shadowed and he looked away from her.

"What a wonderful day you seem to have had Sarah, you're positively glowing."

Sarah felt hurt by his curt tone. Hot venom rose in her mouth, a rebuke ready on her lips. She let it fall away, he could not see her past Carl's glamour, this, none of it was not her doing.

Sarah forced a weak smile at Carl, letting some of her caustic anger slip into the look she gave the Goblin King.

"You're a little late so I've already ordered for us both," sniffed Carl.

"How thoughtful," sniped the Goblin King. "You really shouldn't have."

Sarah ignored them both.

"Fifteen minutes until the draw Sarah," said Carl. "I've got people below monitoring it; they'll call me when the results come in."

Sarah nodded, her mouth tasted like sawdust.

"If all goes well Sarah I hope you'll consider a more permanent arrangement with us."

She shot him a hard look.

"What do you mean?" She asked.

Carl opened his hands before her and instinctively she drew hers back and pushed them beneath the table, into her lap.

"I'm one person down at the moment, which means there's a job opening available."

Sarah blanched. She thought of Cindy and shot a look at the Goblin King but he was ignoring her, staring off at something in the other direction.

"As I told you earlier I'd like to go home once the debt is settled."

She thought she saw the Goblin King stir at her reply but when she glanced his way he was as still as a statue, still focused on something out of sight.

"Sarah," murmured Carl quietly. "I'm offering the choice between being my partner or my prisoner, that's all."

Sarah sighed, all her fears were finally realised. It was almost a relief.

Like the Goblin King it wasn't as if Carl had ever directly lied to her, he had just let her interpret his silence as she had wanted.

There would be no going home, not without a wish.

As she glanced towards the Goblin King's sullen figure again, Carl's phone buzzed in his jacket.

The night hung on a thread as he listened in silence to the voice on the line.

His sickening smile told her all she needed to know, his flinty eyes burning greedily when he looked at her.

"Sarah," he smiled and then he stopped. A frown creased his brow as he continued to listen.

"Bruno?" He asked the mysterious caller. "What do you mean you can't find him?"

Rising from his chair Carl scraped his oversized stomach across the table as he squeezed himself free of the seating arrangement to continue his conversation in private. Sarah watched him walk across the terrace in a fury, stopping in front of the elevator, gesticulating wildly as he continued the exchange.

When she turned away from him the Goblin King's eyes were upon her.

"What will you do Sarah?" He asked, and she thought she could hear a trace of vulnerability in his voice."

The stars were just starting to blink awake above them in the darkening sky. She watched them reflected in the Goblin King's unguarded, guileless eyes.

She smiled.

She smiled because she loved him and she knew that meant she needed to trust him, even if she did not always understand him.

She smiled because she would tell him everything, even if it made her vulnerable, even if he did not feel the same way.

She smiled because she knew that telling him would give him power over her, and she was okay with that.

She smiled and she told him.

"I think I have one final wish to make," she said.

* * *

So didn't I promise you this was the much awaited story climax? Sorry it was a lie, just like the cake.

I had intended it to be so, prematurely. I intended to time skip Sarah's day of opulence straight to dinner with Carl, but then I realised that was a little bit cheap. In the original Rumpelstiltskin the days of luxury are just as important as the days of gold spinning, and so skipping over them is a bit bad mannered. Not to mention that including this content meant I was able to push in a few things that I was starting to think might have to get cut, and I'm glad I didn't because we have some more nice exchanges between our favourite pairing.

I've been so well behaved it would be bad of me to try and skip an event now to move forward, no matter how much I'm longing for the next chapter - which was about 70% complete before I even wrote this so you should see it VERY soon.

Thanks for reading guys, the next chapter will be a bit darker, you might want to light a candle.

**Aleta Wolff: **Sorry, I'm Australian - which is why I use British English in my writing. I'm not sure why you thought I was Brazilian, I can't see anything on my profile that says so? I'm sure this explains why I do not reply in Portuguese (I don't speak Portuguese), I run your reviews through a translator so I can reply to them. I hope your year ended well, Sarah is taking some of those feelings from you this chapter!

**Jay Madeleine Griff: **Although it was an accident it certainly helped me smooth my way into the last chapter, I almost wish I'd made more useful mistakes like this (almost)

**Honoria Granger: **I think Carl would make a rather excellent goblin, the idea of Jareth torturing him endlessly as one of his subject certainly lends an air of charm. Sarah's final wish is on the way, can she resolve everything?

**artseblis: **The question is WHAT DOES JARETH WANT? I promise you'll all know next chapter - I think you might all be a little bit surprised, not by the answer but certainly by the outcome.

**Kaytori: **The origin of the 'Certain Powers' will be revealed next chapter, I'm excited like a school girl with an overdose of sugar. Yes he was rather repulsive, so much so that I had to have him return in this chapter to make him completely unforgettable. I'm glad I gave you a good morning pick me up, reading your reviews give me the same feeling!

** . : **They're like a live wire aren't they? I think the banter and spark between them is writing itself, it's completely out of control - I'm no longer writing this story, merely chasing after it.

**Mercycalling: **Thank you, I will. Enjoy the future chapters.


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